Pure Blood
by Marionette
Summary: [COMPLETED] Is there a difference between pure blood and mud blood? The answer may surprise you. DHr. Last chapter is up! Please R&R!
1. One

It was rare when Professor Slughorn assigned partners for Potions class, so when he decided, on a whim, to make his students work in pairs he was not surprised to hear a collective groan.

"Oh, come now, don't be that way!" Slughorn sighed, picking a piece of parchment up off his desk. "Now let's see, I've my list here…Crabbe and Weasley…Parkinson and Potter…Bulstrode and Longbottom…Granger and Malfoy…"

Hermione Granger groaned. Of all people, Malfoy! True, he had been less horrible than usual throughout this year, but it was not from an apparent attempt to become better. He just looked too tired to care about old rivalries anymore.

Gathering her things, Hermione walked back to join Malfoy at his seat. As she set her bag and books on the floor beside her chair, she placed her piece of parchment with the carefully copied directions in front of both of them.

Malfoy said nothing, much to her surprise, simply got up to retrieve the ingredients they needed to complete the assignment. For a moment, Hermione was caught off guard; what had happened to the insults? The bags under his eyes stood out a mile away. He looked awful. Was he really so defeated that he couldn't even manage a verbal abuse? It wasn't something she enjoyed, but it was something that she had come to expect, and it was disconcerting to have those expectations go unfulfilled.

When he returned, he spoke very softly, almost in a whisper, that he would cut the asphodel root while she brought the water to a boil and separated the dragonfly wings. Hermione complied wordlessly, saying a quick charm to start a fire and then carefully making incisions down the middle of the wings.

Both partners worked mutely for a few minutes, each preoccupied with their task. The silence was interrupted, however, when Malfoy swore aloud. A few neighboring pairs turned back to give him a glare before throwing themselves into their work once again. Hermione turned to find her partner with his finger in his mouth and an unpleasant, pained expression on his face.

"Did you cut yourself?" she asked, putting aside her own work momentarily.

He nodded, pulling the offended digit from his mouth and showing her the cut. She winced; it wasn't a horrible wound, but it was deep enough that it would take quite a few moments to stop bleeding. She didn't like the sight of blood. It made her queasy. Shutting her eyes, Hermione asked him if he would like her to get Professor Slughorn.

Malfoy declined. "There's no need. It'll be fine in a few moments." He replied, his voice sounded as tired as he looked.

Opening her eyes slightly, Hermione found Draco staring at his finger, fascinated. The blood was oozing out slowly, welling at the point of appendage. She found herself captivated by the sight, as well, and the pair watched in awe as a single drop of red formed and fell onto the parchment below.

Concern for Draco disappeared as she realized that he'd allowed his blood to fall on part of the instructions. She leaned in close to the little red spot, watching it intently in hopes that it hadn't completely obstructed the amount of asphodel root necessary for the potion.

Her distress about the asphodel root quickly disappeared, however, when she realized something very strange was happening to the part of the parchment stained with Draco's pure blood.

It had turned blue.

Hermione blinked several times, hoping each time that she was going insane, that what was appearing before her eyes was not real. Her mouth fell open, gaping at the small speck, before she quickly had to close it. Bile was making its way up her throat.

She managed to hoarsely whisper, "I'm going to be sick," before bolting from the room.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or anything associated with it. Duh.

A/N: I was reading a piece of fanfiction the other day that featured DM and HG and it was talking about how they had the same blood, and his was no purer than her own. And it made me wonder…well, what if it was? I rather like the idea for this little piece, though no matter how many times I rewrite it I can't seem to get an ending I like. I'm also on the fence about whether or not I should continue this. I like the idea as a stand alone, but I'm a DMxHG shipper at heart (oh when did this happen to me?) and have silly ideas to turn it into more. Right now, we'll call it a one-shot. If you'd like more, please let me know in a review. I'd appreciate opinions. Thank you! 


	2. Two

Hermione had spent forty-five minutes in the bathroom; she'd vomited until there was nothing left in her stomach to vomit, and then had collapsed by the toilet in a shaking, sobbing mess.

Draco Malfoy had been right all along. She was a mudblood.

Ever since her first year, Hermione had been the girl who had the correct answer. She'd spent so much time being in the right that it had never occurred to her that she may be wrong. She'd always assumed that blood purity was a silly, made-up ideal, that all students are Hogwarts were equals.

Really, she'd chosen a bad time to be wrong.

Swallowing hard, Hermione stood and walked out of the stall toward the mirrors. She inspected her face. Her skin looked normal. Perhaps she was a tad paler than usual, but she had just gotten sick. Her hair was like everyone else's hair, expect maybe a bit thicker and bushier. She had two eyes, two ears, a nose and mouth. All of these things looked so absolutely ordinary; who could have guessed that in the veins beneath all these features, impure blood was coursing through her body?

Potions was nearly over, now, and Hermione assumed that there'd be no point in returning to class. She didn't fancy being peppered with questions; she wanted no one to know of her secret shame. How could she face them now, when what she'd always believed about herself was absolutely false? And furthermore, how could have been so horribly, horribly wrong?

It was a daunting question. After taking a moment to splash water on her face, Hermione pondered it. How, precisely, could she have been misled to such a degree? It occurred to her that it was possible that the whole thing had been a fluke, a strange chemical reaction between Malfoy's blood and the parchment paper. Color returned to her cheeks as she began to devise a method of testing this theory. Of course, it was impossible to get another blood sample from Malfoy; once he knew what she was testing, she'd never hear the end about her own inferiority. Her mind began working at a million miles a minute, sorting out everyone she knew by blood. Her list of purebloods was maddeningly short; a great majority of them were Slytherins, and that was the last place she could check. Then, like a flash of lightning, she realized she had the perfect specimen before her the entire time.

--

"Ron, please? It won't hurt that bad. It's just a pinprick!"

Ron Weasley was staring at Hermione warily, cradling his right pointer finger in his left hand. He knew Hermione well enough to know that he could trust her, and yet he didn't relinquish the grip on his digit.

"Why can't you just tell me what it's for?" he asked suspiciously, keeping careful guard over his much-desired appendage.

Hermione huffed. "I already told you, Ronald! For an _experiment_!" She scowled at him as he continued to stare at her, untrusting. "Oh, come on, Ron! You'll barely feel it!"

Whimpering, Ron acquiesced. He shut his eyes tightly, grimacing as her let go of his finger. It shook as he held it out toward her.

Taking the pin she'd sterilized out of her bag, Hermione reached out and pricked his finger quickly, ignoring the string of curses that flew from her best friend's mouth. "There, now that wasn't so bad, was it?"

Ron opened his eyes slightly, staring down at his now sore finger. "Was too that bad." He pouted, watching as she removed a piece of parchment from the bad slung over her shoulder. "What are you doing?"

"Dabbing the blood." She answered, holding on the parchment. As the red blood began to swell on the pad of Ron's pointer finger, she placed the paper on top, watching it soak up the red.

And a split second later, the same spot was blue.

"Oh…Merlin." She whispered softly, bring the paper close to her face and staring at the blue spot in horror.

Ron, who had stuck his finger in his mouth, promptly took it out again when he realized that Hermione was seriously displeased with the result of her experiment, whatever it may be. "Hermione?" he asked, "Did I do something wrong?"

She held out the parchment unsteadily. "Blue."

He nodded slowly, not comprehending her meaning. Of course it had turned blue. Didn't everyone's?

"I may be saying the completely wrong thing here," Ron started, slowly, "But…so?"

Hermione moved her gaze from the parchment to Ron's face. "You knew it would do this?"

"Yes," he answered, nodding, "that's what everyone's does."

Holding the paper and the pin in her right hand, Hermione pricked her left finger. She ignored Ron's protests, dragging her finger across the parchment's surface. Then she held it out for him, saying quietly, "Look."

Ron was initially unimpressed by the red smear on the paper, but gradually grew more and more incredulous as the small spot stayed red. He wondered what it meant, for a moment, before a realization dawned on him. His mouth fell agape as he brought his eyes to meet Hermione's. She was crying.

"Bloody hell."

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

A/N: I said I might not continue this, but I just couldn't stop thinking about it. So I figured, hey! Why not, right? Anyway, I've already written a little ahead in this story, so I have some ideas of where it might lead. I've also decided to keep these chapters very short—the next chapter's only three hundred some words. Maybe that's a bit disconcerting and choppy, but it's my story so naner naner boo boo I'll write it as I please. Reviews would be much appreciated. 


	3. Three

Ron and Hermione were silent for a long time before one of them spoke. Ron broke the quiet first.

"Harry."

Though her eyes were still leaking with tears, Hermione understood what Ron implied. Harry was a half-blood, from a pureblood father and a muggle born mother. Following the logic of their discoveries, Harry's blood would turn purple when spilled on a sheet of parchment.

Harry was sitting by the fire in the common room when the pair found him, both of them wild-eyed. When he saw them approach, he'd tried to smile, but was suddenly aware that there was something very wrong happening when he noticed their faces. He set down his homework and stood.

"What's wrong?"

Without permission, Hermione lurched forward and grabbed Harry's hand, deftly wielding the pin as she jabbed it into his finger. Harry flinched, and was about to yell at her in outrage when he was cut off by Ron placing a hand over his mouth. Ron shook his head quickly, signaling that it was not a time to talk.

Hermione used the same sheet of parchment on Harry as she had with Ron and herself, and fell into a moaning pile on the floor when the parchment showed a vivid purple spot. Harry, though intrigued, cast the paper away, squatting next to Hermione and rubbing her back.

"Hermione? Are you alright? What's going on?"

Ron placed a hand on Harry's shoulder, and the green eyed boy looked up at his friend. "What's happened? Is someone hurt?"

Clearing his throat uncertainly, Ron murmured, "Do you want me to tell him, Hermione?"

After taking a moment to collect herself and run the back of her sleeve under her nose, Hermione shook her head no. "It's alright, Ron. I can say it." She stood, Harry following her. There was a long pause, as if she had trouble forcing the words from her mouth.

"I'm a mudblood."

With that, she turned and fled up the stairs to the girl's dormitory.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

A/N: This story is coming easily to me so far. I haven't written with so little effort in a long time—and it feels amazing. I have up to Chapter Eight finished. They are short chapters, but I think that's why they are easy to write. I'm not forcing myself to write longer than I want to. If inspiration continues this way, expect to see a chapter up every couple of days. 

Thank you to—Erin, crazy-emerald-blue, Gwinna, Jellyjade Bean, Cessations, 3, and kazfeist—you guys have no idea how nice it is to go to my email inbox and see a bunch review alerts.


	4. Four

The next day, Hermione Granger did something she'd never done before. She skipped all her classes.

After her confrontation with Harry, she'd flung herself onto her bed and hadn't moved from it in several hours. Lavender and Parvati had come and gone many times, and each time they lingered a bit longer in the room. Hermione suspected that Harry and Ron had told them to look out for her.

Hermione had never felt so obsolete in her entire life; she knew that she was first in her class, a shoo-in for Head Girl the next year. She was aware of her own intelligence and her natural capabilities with magic. Yet with all of her many abilities and accomplishments, she could not will her blood to turn blue when it touched a piece of parchment.

She was talented and smart. This new piece of information about her blood had not caused her to question that; she was more bothered by the idea that no matter how good she was at magic, her blood was still inferior. Draco Malfoy had been right when he'd called her a mudblood.

It was a statement that haunted her as she fell into an uneasy sleep, not waking until dinner time that night. As her eyes opened, she felt hunger gnawing at her stomach. Hermione sat up, pulling back her bed curtains and nearly jumping out of her skin upon finding both her roommates standing next to her bed. They, too, were taken aback.

Lavender recovered first. "Hermione! Good, you're up!"

"We were worried about you." Added Parvati.

Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, Hermione yawned. "How much did Harry and Ron bug you about me?"

"A _lot_!" Parvati said, squeaking when Lavender elbowed her in the ribs. "Of course, we were worried, too, when you weren't in Transfiguration."

"We went to see Madame Trelawney to find out what was wrong, and she said that she sensed you have the stomach flu." Lavender turned around to her bed, which was situated across from Hermione's. Her bookbag lay discarded atop her comforter, and Lavender reached in and pulled something out. She handed it to Hermione. "She said this would help."

Hermione examined the green lump in her hand. It looked like crushed tea leaves. "Thanks, but I don't have the stomach flu."

Parvati seemed dissatisfied with her answer. "Well, maybe you're coming down with it and you just don't know it yet." She and Lavender nodded simultaneously, "You should take that, just in case."

Resisting the urge to tell her roommates that they were ridiculous for believing that fraud Trelawney, Hermione smiled politely. "Of course. I'll just go into the bathroom and get some water to wash it down." She stood, not waiting for a response, and headed toward the bathroom connected to their room. Upon entering, she made her way to a stall and dropped the mess into one of the toilets, flushing it away.

On the way out the door, she caught a glimpse of her reflection. She had to turn away; all she could see now was the dirty blood crawling under her skin.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

A/N: I think I will be updating around every two days, unless I start to catch up with myself. I'm working on Chapter 11 now, so I think we'll be good for awhile.

In other news—thank you so much for all of the wonderful reviews! I was absolutely stunned when I opened my email and I found I had TEN reviews!  You guys totally made my day. Thanks go to Jellyjade Bean, Gwinna, Lokelani, Monkeystarz, crazy-emerald-blue, kazfeist, Gisse, Mooncheese, and Cessations.

And this chapter is dedicated to Judy Garland, for having the loveliest singing voice of all time.


	5. Five

Despite Parvati and Lavender's best attempts to dissuade her, Hermione insisted on attending dinner. The two girls seemed nervous about the idea (since they were so sure she had the stomach flu), but Hermione refused to listen to their pleas. She needed to get out; she'd had her day of moping and self-pity, and it had been quite useful. But it did no good to dwell, and if she ever expected herself to recover from the shock, she had to return to her normal schedule.

Still, it was impossible to act as if she was perfectly alright. Going to dinner was one thing, but she still had a lot of pain connected to this experience. She was haunted by the memory of Draco's perfect, pure blood dripping onto her instructions.

Her stomach turned. Perhaps Parvati and Lavender had been right to encourage her to avoid dinner.

Entering the Great Hall, Hermione ignored the bewildered stares Harry and Ron were giving her. She sat, looking at the different foods that had popped up before her. Her appetite was lost; none of them appealed to her. It was in her best interest to eat, however, and she knew that, so she grabbed and roll and placed it on her plate.

Harry spoke first. "Hermione?" he asked, "Are you…alright?"

Hermione wished she could send him a smile and reassure him that she was perfectly fine, but she found she couldn't lie. "No…not really." Her eyes began to fill with tears again. She swallowed thickly and took a bite of her roll.

"Do you want me to walk you back to the Common Room?" Ron spoke softly, squeezing her elbow. She rested her head on his shoulder.

"No…no, I want to eat dinner." She answered. Inwardly, she wished she sounded more determined. Her voice came out small and weak.

Both boys seemed to be at a loss at what to do to comfort their friend. It had never occurred to either of them that Hermione's blood may have actually been different from their own, so they had never prepared for this situation. Harry patted her hand gingerly, flashing her a sympathetic look.

"It'll be alright," he said awkwardly, "Ron and I are here for you."

Hermione rewarded his kind look with a hug.

"Oh, Harry," she whispered, "How could I have ever been so wrong?"

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

A/N: I think I like the next chapter. I say "think" because I'm a few chapters ahead of it still, so I don't really remember precisely what happens. But I'm pretty sure it's a good one, so stay tuned.

Thanks go to—HappeeGoLucky, crazy-emerald-blue, kazfeist, jptan. You guys are the best!

Please review! (:


	6. Six

Harry and Ron had coaxed and pleaded Hermione into leaving the Great Hall soon after. She had barely touched a scrap of food; she no longer had any appetite to speak of. The boys promised her that if she felt hungry in the least, all she had to do was ask and they would go down to the kitchens for her to which she replied that she could get herself something to eat, thank you very much.

As they walked back to Gryffindor tower, Hermione's head on Ron's shoulder and her hand in Harry's own, the trio was silent. The only word spoken was to the Fat Lady, so that they were allowed entrance into the Common Room.

The Common Room was empty, since all of the students were at dinner. The three curled up on the couch by the fire, with Hermione between the two boys. Each of them had their eyes trained on the flickering flames.

"Do you think I am less worthy now, as a witch?" Hermione asked suddenly, ignoring the looks of surprise she received from both of the boys.

Ron stared at her, absolutely stunned. "Are you daft? Absolutely not!"

"That's the most preposterous thing I've ever heard." Affirmed Harry.

Hermione looked less than convinced. "I don't mean that I think I'm less intelligent or capable, but that…" she shrugged, looking lost in her own words, "I don't know. That because I was born the way I was, I don't—don't deserve this." She motioned to the grand, empty room.

Harry gave her a skeptical look. "You can't possibly mean that."

"You really _have_ gone daft." Ron said, wonderingly. "You're the most talented witch—"

"That's just it!" interrupted Hermione, looking troubled. "I don't question my talents, but my worthiness…do I deserve these gifts because I am of lesser blood?"

Ron snorted. "That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard."

"Way to be sensitive, _Ronald_." Hermione spat, shifting her glance away from him.

"He's right, Hermione—since when have you defined yourself by your blood?"

Her lower lip trembled. "Since I found out it was different."

"People who define their purity by their blood are sadly mistaken," Ron started, "I mean, take Malfoy for example. He can trace his lineage back to who-knows-when, and his blood is as pure as the driven snow. But what kind of person is he? Certainly not a good one, that's for sure! Does he deserve to be a wizard, then? The truth is, Hermione, that you're a million times better than he is, and pure of _heart_. That's _real _purity. The heart is far more important than the color of the blood that runs through it."

Harry and Hermione stared at Ron incredulously. His face crumpled.

"Did I say something wrong again?" he muttered.

Hermione smiled; the first smile she'd managed since she'd discovered the truth about her blood. "No, Ron," she said, "You said the absolute right thing."

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

A/N: I've had a few people critique Hermione's characterization—which I fully endorse! I like when people challenge my writing. It can only make me better. (: I do understand that Hermione seems a tad bit melodramatic; in the books, she is incredibly logical, brave, and smart. But she is also human and subject to her emotions. She's spent every year defending herself against the term "mudblood" with the secure knowledge that there was absolutely no difference between her blood and anyone else's—I honestly believe that she would have trouble coping if she found out that she'd been wrong. Also keep in mind that these past few chapters have happened over a span of two days, so this is still a very raw, open wound.

This said—I agree that she is not completely in character, and I will try my best to make her a bit less melodramatic. (: It should be a bit better from now on, I think. Please, comment on any OOCness if you notice it!

When I said I liked this chapter, it was because of the scene with the trio walking back to the Common Room. I had a picture of them walking back like that in my head, and it seemed very sweet. Haha. I'm lame, I know.

Thanks to the reviewers (for helping me reach 30 reviews!)—kazfeist, HappeeGoLuckee, Gwinna, DracoLovers of Tomorrow, Gisse, chichirixxx, crazy-emerald-blue, Rictumsempra. And if you're reading this now—please review! You'll get a thank you at the bottom…HOW COOL!!!


	7. Seven

After a long night of relaxing on the couch in front of the fire with Harry and Ron, Hermione went to bed feeling better than she had since that fateful Potions class. When she woke up the next morning, she felt refreshed. It had been two days since she had discovered the truth of her blood, and the idea still bothered her. However, what Ron had said helped her tremendously; she was pure of heart, and that was what was important.

As she sat up in bed, shaking her sleepy limbs awake, she wondered if she ought to chance going to Potions that day. It was probable that whatever potion they were doing, she'd be perfectly competent at making. And in the slim chance that she wasn't, Harry had been doing especially well this year, and she could ask him for help.

Part of her wanted to go to class, however. Dinner the previous night hadn't been a success, but she had a different perspective than she had had last evening. Though a little bit nervous, Hermione took a deep breath and got out of bed, preparing for Potions.

She slipped into her uniform (again ignoring protests from her roommates that she should stay in bed so as not to upset her stomach), then walked into the bathroom. She did everything in her power to avoid her own reflection, and even brushed her teeth and hair facing the wall so that she would not have to see herself. It bothered her to see herself still. Hermione only hoped that she didn't have something on her face or in her teeth; she knew it was silly to make an effort to not look at herself, especially since she knew, deep-down, that she had as much right to be a witch as every other student in the school. Still, she reasoned, it wouldn't hurt to give herself a little more time to completely heal and move on from the incident—maybe then she'd look in a mirror.

Walking out the sixth year girls' dormitory and into the Common Room, Hermione ignored the stares she was receiving. Apparently, those who had seen her rush out of Potions had told others, and now she was the center of a number of rumors, none of which were remotely true. She glared at those who she caught pointing and whispering as she waited for Harry and Ron to come downstairs.

The trio walked together to Great Hall, and both the boys seemed relieved when Hermione managed to choke down a bowl of cereal. Potions passed with fairly easily; Professor Slughorn lectured on potions that used parts of the human body, whether it was something like nail clippings or the "dead man's toe" included in the potions made by witches of old.

Hermione was absolutely entranced by Professor Slughorn's lecture, and as soon as it had ended she wanted to know _more_. It felt good to thirst for knowledge; that familiar need to know everything made her feel more like herself. She bade Harry and Ron goodbye outside of the classroom, ignoring their pleas for her to go back to the Common Room with them.

"Really, boys," she said, "I feel much better. I want to study."

"You know she's feeling better when she wants to go to the library." Harry teased, smiling. Ron laughed as well.

Hermione shot them a playful dirty look. "Oh, go on, you two."

The pair ran off after a few more minutes of protesting, and she could hear the subject turning to quidditch as they turned the corner. She smiled lightly to herself, turning the opposite direction toward the stairs and heading up to the library.

Entering the musty, old library made Hermione feel more normal than she had in the past couple days. She traced the spines of the books with her fingers as she made her way toward the back of the room, where the Potions books were kept. Her eyes skimmed the titles, looking for one on her particular area of interest. When she found _The Human Ingredient_ by Aaron Braddock, she grinned.

"Jackpot." She whispered.

Taking the book off the shelf, Hermione turned to the nearest table. She curled her legs up onto the seat of the chair, setting the book on the table in front of her. First, she skimmed the table of contents, before flipping through to pages to chapter one and starting to read. She was a good twenty minutes in before she realized that someone was watching her. As she looked up, her stomach plummeted.

Draco Malfoy was staring back at her.

A/N: Thanks go to—Erin, Rictumsempra, Chichirix, Gwinna, crazy-emerald-blue, kazfesit, and cutiexoxo—please keep reviewing! (:


	8. Eight

Draco was smiling viciously at her, but Hermione still couldn't help but notice the stark, dark circles beneath his eyes.

"Mudblood." He muttered, "I need that book."

Swallowing the lump in her throat, Hermione tried to remain calm. Draco had no idea about her—condition—so there was no reason to panic. "I am using it right now, Malfoy."

He sneered. "Don't worry, I'll use a cleaning spell before I touch it."

His insults, which had become so easy to ignore, stung with a new fury. It was like being called a "mudblood" for the first time again, and it hurt more than ever before. She gulped. He didn't know that it was true, or how much his words injured her. All she had to do was put on a good face, and he'd be none the wiser.

She glared at him. "I'm trying to _learn_, Malfoy. You can use the book tomorrow."

"The problem with that being that I don't want it tomorrow, I want it right now." He retorted. His voice didn't hold the same sharp quality; she couldn't help but wonder what, exactly, made Malfoy so extremely tired.

"Look," she answered, "I'm using this right now. You can have it when I'm finished."

Draco's eyes narrowed. "This isn't an issue for debate, Mudblood."

Hermione rolled her eyes at him, hoping that he couldn't tell how much that particular word harmed her. "I'm not going to give you the book until I'm done with it. That's that." To prove how little he intimidated her, Hermione reached forward and flippantly turned the page. Unfortunately, she did so a little too quickly and flinched as she was rewarded with a paper cut.

Muttering under her breath, Hermione watched as the blood formed in the cut. Then, like a train derailing off its tracks, she was hit with the realization that she was bleeding. In front of Draco Malfoy. Her stomach dropped.

For his part, Draco seemed even more agitated about Hermione's cut than she herself was. The image of her tainted blood staining that book popped into his head; he couldn't let the book be marred by her dirty blood, he needed it for his task! With lightning fast reflexes, he reached into his bag and ripped out a piece of parchment. He stuck the paper over the pages of the book, sighing in relief as her blood dripped onto that instead of _The Human Ingredient_.

Hermione's reaction was not the same. She cried out, ripping the parchment away as fast as she could.

Not fast enough, however.

Draco Malfoy was watching her, looking more awake than he had in weeks. His lips curled into a sneer.

"Mudblood."

A/N: I think this is a day late…to be honest, I can't really remember. If it is, I apologize. I'm on break from school, but for some reason I have even _less_ time! I'm not sure how that one works. Anyway, I believe the next chapter WILL be up on the 25th, so keep an eye out. (:

Thanks go to—chichirixxx, Gwinna, crazy-emerald-blue, kazfeist, WinnieThaPoo92, Rictumsempra, Fish Head the 3rd and Co—you guys rock! ALSO, thanks to everyone who has put this on their Favorites and Story Alerts Lists. (:

Alright. See you in Chapter 9!


	9. Nine

They were silent for a few minutes, her eyes cast downward as he smirked at her. He spoke first.

"I told you." He could hardly contain his laughter, "I always told you you were a _Mudblood_."

"Congratulations, Malfoy, you guessed it. I really _am_ a muggleborn!" her voice was defiant, but she still did not meet his gaze. "Truly, you are a genius." She shrugged her backpack onto her shoulder and moved as if to walk past him. He stepped in front of her, blocking the path.

He ignored her statement. "I was always right—you blood is inferior to mine. _You_ are inferior."

That comment made her insides burn with anger; blood or not, she would _never _consider someone as cruel, cold, and unfeeling as Malfoy to be her superior. She suddenly felt courageous and lifted her eyes, staring directly into his.

"Blood is no indication of magical ability, Malfoy." She scoffed. Inwardly, she repeated her mantra: _I deserve magic, I am good at magic_…It gave her hope for a moment, but that moment was unfortunately shortlived.

"I didn't mean you were inferior as a witch," he instantly retorted, smirking deeply, "I meant as a person."

Hermione recoiled as if struck; Malfoy did not consider her a lesser witch, but a lesser _person_. It was such a blow she could not control her surprise. Her jaw dropped.

Noticing the effect his words had on her, Draco smiled and continued to expound. "I can't deny that you are able to perform magic, Granger. It's not your abilities I resent. It's the fact that I have to share a school with someone as filthy, disgusting, and low-born as yourself." His face reflected that of a kid in a candy store, "And you always thought I was wrong, that we were equals. But I was _right_, Granger. You are as common and dirty as mud, only good enough to walk on."

Throughout his speech, Hermione repeated to herself that she must not, under any circumstances, cry in front of this horrid boy. She blinked several times, damming the tears with her eyelids. When he finished, she took a deep, shaky breath.

"You may have blue blood, Draco Malfoy," her voice shook with passion and determination, "but you also have a black heart."

With that she turned on her heel and walked away, leaving him to stare at her retreating back.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

A/N: This was the most difficult chapter for me to write so far, which is why I cut it off so short. And yes—I know the last line Hermione says doesn't TECHNICALLY work, since his blood is red until it hits parchment. But it wouldn't have been as effective unless I used two color adjectives so…whatever. Haha.

Also—good news! I've thought up the end of the story. I've always known the eventual end, just not the exact way I wanted to get there. I know now, however, so that's all very exciting. (:

Thanks to—WinnieThaPoo92, Harry's Lil Bitch, kazfeist, Gwinna, Rictumsempra, Dragon's Mudblood, and crazy-emerald-blue.

HAPPY HOLIDAYS!


	10. Ten

As she left the library, Hermione was inwardly groaning. She expected that Draco would immediately report to his cronies, giving them a full account of how "inferior" she was. She moaned at the thought of being constantly tormented by the Slytherins for the next few weeks.

So when not one of them mentioned it to her, Hermione was incredibly surprised. Each day she awoke thinking that it would be the day she heard one of the Slytherins giggling about it, or torturing her for it. Each night she went to bed, surprised that he hadn't told them yet. Why was he keeping this secret?

Hermione had, of course, told Harry and Ron what had happened as soon as she'd gotten back to the Common Room. Predictably, they were both irate and promised her vengeance, which she politely declined.

"But Hermione!" Ron whined, giving her a pleading look, "We're just trying to defend your honor."

Hermione sighed. "I know, Ron, but really—you two will only make it worse."

"How could it get any worse?" asked Harry.

"He could say something to his friends, and that would be terrible. Not only for me, you know, but for all of the other muggle-born students here. We'd never hear the end of it. Please, let it be." Hermione concluded sensibly, knowing that both of the boys were starting to see her point.

Ron stared at his feet sullenly, then suddenly perked up. "If he says something, can I punch him?"

Hermione and Harry only laughed, which Ron took to mean "yes".

Yet the days since their altercation stretched on, and Hermione's agitation increased. Why did he keep this secret? It was certainly not out of respect for her, or for their other muggle-born classmates. It was certainly not because he was nice. No, he was a Slytherin, and that meant he was scheming.

But what was his scheme?

She sighed heavily to herself. He was never one for patience, so everything was sure to come out into the open soon. Perhaps during Potions on Monday.

A/N: Wow—sorry this update took longer than usual. I only ever got three email alerts about reviews, and I was disappointed. Imagine my surprise when I signed in to find out I had much more than that! Whoops! Sorry! To answer a few questions/statements—this story WILL have a good amount of chapters. I'd say somewhere between thirty and forty, though I can't be sure. And I'm sorry that I didn't go into Draco's reaction too much. I personally feel that Draco was unaffected, but I don't know. What do you guys think?

Thanks go to—chichirixxx, WinnieThaPoo92, crazy-emerald-blue, Ehlonna, kazfeist, Gwinna, Rictumsempra, Harry's Lil Bitch. You guys helped my little story reach 60 reviews! Maybe we could make it to 70 for the next chapter? Hmm?

HAPPY NEW YEAR!! (:


	11. Eleven

Professor Slughorn, as stated before, did not typically assign partners in his Potions class. In fact, after the complaining he had received from several students he had never planned on making anyone work in pairs ever again. Yet, he had noticed something peculiar as he'd recorded the grades from the partner assignment.

Most of the students' marks were much, much higher than usual.

Truly, this fact confused him; he had thought that nearly all the pairs had despised their partners. Still, it was impossible to argue with an absolute truth, and the fact was that a majority of the people had faired far better.

When he'd announced that they'd be working with the same partners again that Monday, citing their improvement as the reason, he'd expected them to be less unhappy than they had been the first time. After all, they _had_ done better. Yet he was met once again with a chorus of groans. Still, the students complied and moved to sit next to their respective partners.

No one had been more upset than Hermione at Slughorn's decision; the second he had made his announcement, she could feel Malfoy's eyes on her back, taunting her. If her comment from the previous day had made any impact on him at all, he was very good at hiding it. She reluctantly joined him, spreading out her notes carefully between them as she had done before.

Malfoy, unfortunately, was far more vocal than he had been during their previous partnership. It became overtly apparent why he had chosen to keep her blood-related issues to himself; he wanted to enjoy torturing her, and he didn't want to share.

"What potion are we to be making, _Mudblood_?" he asked, smirking and skimming her notes. He seemed only more pleased once he found out the answer to the question, "Ah. The Sanguis Potion. Do you know what Sanguis means?"

From his tone of voice, it was obvious that Draco knew what it meant. Hermione feared the worst.

"No, Malfoy. I don't speak Latin."

He sneered. "I wouldn't expect you to. After all, it's not like you had any breeding." Malfoy continued, quite pleased with himself, "It means blood."

Hermione sucked in a breath quickly; she attempted to pass it off as nothing, but her pale face expressed otherwise. Professor Slughorn began talking, and she tuned out Draco, trying to focus on the lesson. She was fairly unsuccessful but didn't want Draco to know that.

"Today we shall be making the Sanguis Potion." Said Slughorn, beaming at his students, "It may be a bit advanced for you lot, but it goes along with our lesson from the other day and I thought we could try it out and see how it goes.

This potion is a very peculiar one in terms of its effects. It requires a drop of blood from a pure man—or woman, of course. And it's imperative that the blood comes from someone who is pure, otherwise the potion is completely useless."

Finding it terribly hard to concentrate with Draco's snickering beside her, Hermione glared at him mightily. He simply laughed more quietly.

"What does this potion _do_ exactly, Professor?" asked Hermione. She felt slightly offended that he'd picked a potion that could only use pure blood. "I mean, some of us here are muggle born—how are we to complete the potion?"

Slughorn smiled. "Ah, Miss Granger, those are some excellent questions. Unfortunately, I can't answer them until the end of class." Noticing that she opened her mouth to protest, Slughorn continued, "Now, everyone make sure that they have copied down the ingredients, as well as the colors of the various stages of the potion, and then I suggest you get to work."

A/N: I know this has taken me awhile to post—I apologize. I actually was somewhat dreading this chapter as I'm not really happy with it at all, but I can't manage to write anything that pleases me any more than this so it will have to do. I also waited to post this because I've been having lots of trouble with my alerts and not receiving them and was afraid that this was happening to other people as well. I wanted to make sure that everyone who wanted to had a chance to read and review before I went on.

Another note—I think that updates will be coming slower. I have an idea for an original story that just will not leave me be, and I think I may be devoting more time to it. I also recently reread a story of mine called "The Game" and suddenly very much want to keep going with it. Too much to do, too little time!

THANKS GO TO—Gwinna, for giving me the latin word for blood. (: And the reviewers: cutiegirl786, chichirixxx, WinnieThaPoo92, Ehlonna, crazy-emerald-blue, kazfeist, and Harry's Lil Bitch.


	12. Twelve

It had been a long, long hour.

Each time Hermione opened her mouth to ask a question or to request that Draco pass her an ingredient, she was answered with a snarl and a sarcastic remark. As the minutes ticked by, she found herself becoming more annoyed and less hurt. Hermione was beginning to remember how she'd become desensitized to the word "mudblood" in the first place.

Making a valiant effort to ignore Draco's pettiness, Hermione threw herself into her work. The potion was not the most complex one they'd made that year, but it did occupy most of her attention as she went through the motions of adding the precisely sliced ingredients. Draco, for his part, was doing very little work on the actual assignment, instead choosing to perfect his insults.

"Careful not to cut yourself, Mudblood. Wouldn't want you to taint our potion, after all." He gave her a condescending look, laughing lightly to himself.

"You know, you _could_ help me with this, Malfoy." Hermione replied bitingly, glaring at him with all her might.

Draco chose to ignore the look she was giving him. "I can't get hurt, Mudblood. We _need_ me for this project."

Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Right," she answered, "well, go on then."

He seemed confused. "What?"

She motioned to the potion. It was a shade of pale green, described as the color of the step before the last. His eyes skimmed the directions once.

"Good job, Mudblood. Looks like you didn't screw up too horribly, despite your disadvantages."

Sighing, Hermione knew that that was the closest Draco Malfoy would ever get to complimenting her. She didn't need his acceptance, Hermione reminded herself as she handed him the knife she'd been using to cut the ingredients.

"What's this for?" Draco asked, wrinkling his nose. Hermione motioned to the potion with an expectant look on her face, and he caught on to her suggestion. "Do we happen to have anything else I could use? You touched this."

Her blood boiled, but Hermione swallowed her rage. "I realize it's difficult for you, Malfoy, but please try to be less of a git long enough to finish our potion."

With a look of disgust clearly written on his features, Draco lifted the knife to his fingertip and made the smallest incision. A drop of bright red blood formed on the digit before falling into the potion, which promptly turned a steely gray.

"There, happy?" Draco sneered, pinching the small wound between the pointer finger and thumb of his other hand.

Hermione looked over the potion, and then back down at her notes. Then at the potion. Then at her notes. She repeated this a few times, squinting and rubbing her eyes furiously as well. Draco noticed her erratic behavior.

"What is your problem, Mudblood?" he barked.

A smile broke out on Hermione's face.

"Not my problem, Malfoy," she said, her voice giddy, "yours."

Draco checked his finger. It was still bleeding. He sighed and cast her a furious glance. "What in the bloody hell are you talking about?"

Hermione pushed her notes toward Draco, pointing out the last sentence. She watched with joy as his jaw dropped.

"Our potion," Hermione stated, "is supposed to be periwinkle."

A/N: Yes, yes—this took me much longer than usual to post. I apologize. For some reason, I can't seem to make myself happy with any of the chapters I've written since Chapter 10, and it makes me not want to update. Baahhh. I'm really rather frustrated with this little piece, and when I'm frustrated I tend to avoid the thing that's gotten me worked up at all costs. Also, college started again, my work hours have picked up by a lot…you get the picture. I know, I'm all excuses. Still, I hope you all understand!

A note pertaining to the length of the chapters—a few people have complained about the short chapters. It's a stylistic choice of this story. I'm going with what I feel comfortable with, and so I've done my best to leave things at what I consider to be natural breaking points. I know that it's an annoyance for some people, but I'm afraid I'm rather fond of it that way.

Thanks go to—Gwinna, Harry's Lil Bitch, chichirixxx, kazfeist, crazy-emerald-blue, Imagination Vs Reality, and Tomo Potter. I appreciate all your comments and advice! (: Also, thanks to anyone who's even read this little story—I looked at my stats, and it has most hits than any story I've ever written. (:


	13. Thirteen

"What did you do, Mudblood?" cried Malfoy, leaning forward and staring at their potion in dismay.

"What did _I _do, Malfoy? I did our potion, that's what!" Hermione shot back, smirking triumphantly.

Draco glared angrily. "How did you mess it up!?"

"Excuse me?" Hermione fairly exploded, "I did _not _mess anything up!"

Their voices were escalating, drawing everyone's attention to the back of the room. Professor Slughorn cast a worried look at the duo, quickly making his way to the back and stepping inbetween the fight.

"You two!" Slughorn interrupted, "Stop this bickering immediately!"

Hermione and Draco both stopped talking, but they continued to send each other scathing looks. After taking a deep breath to calm himself, Professor Slughorn continued.

"What in the world got into both of you?" he asked, obviously flabbergasted by the outbreak.

For a moment, the classroom was absolutely silent. Then the partners began to yell simultaneously, each blaming the other for any wrongdoing. Finally, after a minute of indecipherable screaming, Professor Slughorn reached out and clamped a hand over Hermione's mouth (much to her indignation), allowing Draco to speak.

"She _ruined_ our potion!" he hissed, motioning to the cauldron of gray liquid that was atop the desk. "I don't know how, but she messed it up! Stupid _mudblood!_"

There was a collective gasp about the room as Draco uttered that word. Professor Slughorn released his hold on Hermione's mouth in shock, then quickly replaced it upon realizing that she was about to say some very foul things in return.

"Ruined your potion, you say?" asked Slughorn, leaning over and taking a glimpse at the brew, "Why, I'd have to disagree Mr. Malfoy. It looks alright to me."

Hermione tore herself away from the oppressive hand. "_See_? I told you I did it right!"

"If it's right, then why isn't it periwinkle?" Malfoy questioned in a rude tone.

Slughorn smiled as he answered. "Simple, Mr. Malfoy. It's a matter of having used improper ingredients."

"Well, I got the ingredients from the cupboard!" Hermione huffed, crossing her arms.

"No, dear girl, not _those_ ingredients," supplied Slughorn, "those were fine. I assume you made it through all of the other stages without flaw?"

Both partners affirmed that statement with curt head nods.

"Then congratulations, you completed the potion successfully."

Draco looked unconvinced, running an anxious hand through his very neat hair. "How come it's gray and not periwinkle, then?"

Peering into the cauldron for a second time, Slughorn looked at them as if they should have already figured it out. "It's quite simple," he said, "it's a matter of the blood's impurities."

A/N: Quick update to make up for the last one since it took so long. :D A few miscellaneous notes—I have this story pretty much planned out (I got bored in class the other day, haha) and it will be around 25 chapters and an Epilogue. To give you an idea of where I am writing-wise, I'm currently working on chapter 23. So I should have this done fairly soon, and chapters will be coming out at a better speed.

Also, I see you. Yeah, you. You have this on alert, but you don't review. ): Haha. I kid, of course. I'm actually flattered that I have a lot of alerts for this story. I gained about five from the last chapter alone! Thank you! And of course, thanks to the lovely reviewers…Erin, WinnieThaPoo92, Rictumsempra, crazy-emerald-blue, kazfeist, Tomo Potter, and Gwinna.

It's been a long week, am I right? If you know a good joke, feel free to put it in the review. Make my (and everyone else's!) week a little brighter:D


	14. Fourteen

The entire sixth year Potion's class stared at Professor Slughorn, dumbfounded. Gradually, their gazes shifted toward Draco, who was staring at his instructor with a mixture of fury and shock written on his face.

Hermione didn't know whether to faint or squeal with joy.

"So—what your saying is…is that the blood…" Hermione started, finding that she was so surprised her mouth could hardly form words.

"Was impure?" questioned Slughorn, smiling obliviously at Hermione's confirming head nod, "Yes."

Every Slytherin's jaw dropped.

Draco had been torn between his conflicting emotions, yet upon hearing Slughorn malign his name, anger took control. His jaw tightened as he narrowed his eyes into a withering glare. Slughorn noticed his pupil's reaction but did not understand why he seemed so furious.

"Mr. Malfoy, is something wrong?" he asked.

"Yes, very." Draco replied, his voice cold, "How dare you imply that my blood is anything less than _pure_. Unlike some people in this classroom, I was _born_ to be a wizard."

Standing sharply, Draco reached out and forcefully pushed the cauldron. It's contents spilled onto the floor, and the cauldron toppled after, landing with a loud clank. Hermione flinched at the sound, watching as Draco hurriedly gathered his things and made his way toward the doorway.

He paused in the frame, tossing a glare over his shoulder. "I'll have your job for this, Slughorn."

After Draco had left, the class sat in silence for a long moment. Not a single student moved but merely stared ahead. Slughorn recovered first, clearing his throat awkwardly.

"I believe," he said, "that Mr. Malfoy misunderstood me. I was not calling his pedigree into question; on the contrary, I know he is of a long line of wizards. There is no doubt that his blood, in that sense, is pure."

Something about the way Professor Slughorn framed that statement caught Hermione's attention, and she could not overcome her curiosity. "There is another 'sense'?"

"The blood is pumped through the heart, correct?"

The students were silent, knowing the question was rhetorical.

"Well—and of course, I make no judgements, I am only telling you what I know through my studies—if the heart is impure, the blood tends to follow." A few Slytherins seemed offended by this, but Slughorn kept speaking before they could voice their opinions, "I was going to give a lecture about this potion after everyone had finished it—it was originally concocted as a healing potion, but it's creator discovered a better use for it as a way to discover one's enemies."

"How could you tell if someone was an enemy, just using the potion?" someone called out.

"Well, of course, it's not fool proof like, oh, Veritaserum. But if the potion turns gray, it is generally thought that the person who donated their blood is, well, immoral, wicked." Slughorn quickly added, "Which is not saying anything about Mr. Malfoy's character—many people don't believe that the color change truly proves anything."

After this was said, Professor Slughorn dismissed the class, knowing that there was no point in continuing. None of his students were paying attention any longer. This episode had distracted them thoroughly, and it would be impossible to get the whole class back on track. He bade his pupils goodbye, telling them on the way out the door that they could expect to make the potion again on Wednesday.

Hermione knew, as she left the classroom, that she should be as pleased as punch; Draco Malfoy, a boy who had tortured her over the fact that she was muggle born, had just been humiliated for being just as impure as herself.

The whole situation did not sit well with her, however. Draco Malfoy was a mean boy, a rude boy, a horrible boy. He was selfish and stuck-up and branded with misplaced loyalties. He was also a product of his environment; he had been specifically bred to be just what he was: an arrogant git.

But beyond that, she wasn't so sure. He had never had problems cutting her to the core with words, or lying, or cheating. But there were many people who lied and cheated (she _knew_ somehow Harry was cheating in Potions, for example) whom she would never deem 'immoral to the point of impurity'. No matter how much she disliked the boy and his ideas, Hermione could not pinpoint a single instance where Malfoy had been so incredibly malicious that he deserved that label.

Which made her wonder what, exactly, he had done to become so impure.

A/N: Apparently, last chapter was good, since I got five more reviews than usual. It made me smile. :D Seriously, it should happen more often. Because when it does, I start updating quickly again! Everyone wins!

Thanks go to—kazfeist, Gwinna, ferman, chichirixxx, Harry's Lil Bitch, luvHaru7, crazy-emerald-blue, Querida Goddess, Rictumsempra, Ehlonna, Erytha, Tomo Potter

I've got three tests, three labs, and a paper this week. So it will probably be a few days until the next update. Sorry! I'll get it out as soon as I can.


	15. Fifteen

Draco Malfoy skipped his next day's classes. Hermione used this time to decide something very important.

She was going to discover his secret.

After Potions class, Hermione had gone straight to the Library to study the Sanguis Potion thoroughly. Her research lead her to a number of different tomes on the subject; she was soon sad that she'd let Malfoy get his hands on _The Human Ingredient_. It was cited in every resource she found. Still, she compiled more than enough information to be quite sure that the potion was, indeed, a reputable judge of character. Professor Slughorn had definitely added that disclaimer as a way to further protect himself from unemployment.

What the books didn't tell her, she was disappointed to discover, was the original intent of the potion. Slughorn had mentioned that it had been meant as a healing potion, but she could see nothing in its ingredients that would lend it to healing any common (or uncommon, for that matter) maladies. Every book stated that that use, whatever it was, had long been suspended, but Hermione could not help but feel that it would be useful to know everything about the potion and what it did. That knowledge would help to unlock _why_ Draco's blood had caused the potion to react that way, chemically speaking. She wasn't sure that would be especially helpful in the long run, but she figured it was better to be over prepared rather than under.

When Draco finally returned to classes, he was silent and sulking. The sixth year Slytherins had explained the clarifications Slughorn had made after he'd left, but Draco seemed uninterested in them. He appeared perfectly content to wallow in his anger and glare at Slughorn whenever the Professor happened to wander into his line of vision. Everyone seemed to be put on edge by Draco's bad mood.

Everyone except Hermione.

She used this time to study him.

Draco was so wrapped up in being angry, he didn't notice that Hermione tailed him on his way to some of his classes, or sat in an adjacent table in the library. As soon as he left, she'd attack the books he'd been looking through, studying them to try and discover what had caught his interest. She could not seem to find any real connection between the texts he picked; human ingredients in Potions, Dark objects, Alternate forms of travel, and Wizarding Law and Punishment. What was the common thread?

Hermione had been trailing him for three days when she noticed he'd snapped out of his moping period and had begun to notice her. Transfiguration had just dismissed and she watched as he walked out the door and turned right. Giving a quick explanation to Harry and Ron, Hermione gathered her things into her bag and followed him out, casually straggling behind the blonde boy.

She sensed that Draco knew something was happening when he began to take a good many twists and turns. It put her on edge; was it safer to take a different corridor and make it all look like a coincidence, or to continue to pursue him as nonchalantly as possible? She was tempted to turn back, but then what would become of her mission? She had find out what had blackened Draco's heart to the point where he was no longer pure; she had to know what made him no better than her. Keeping her head high, she continued to walk in the same direction.

Draco quickened his pace, obviously aware that Hermione was right behind him, and after a few more sharp turns, he stopped dead in his tracks. Hermione quit walking as well, surprised by this turn of events.

"Granger," he asked, without turning, "why are you following me?"

"You flatter yourself, Malfoy." Hermione scoffed in return, throwing in a casual laugh.

He pivoted to face her, taking a few steps toward her. "I thought so, at first. But then I started noticing you around more and more. So if I'm going to be followed, I think I have a right to know."

"Oh please, you're being ridic—"

"Have a crush on me, Granger?"

This question caught her off guard with its ludicrousness, but Hermione tried not to let it show. Instead, she forced a laugh and turned on her heel, calling out over her shoulder.

"Not even if you were the last man alive."

A/N: I got a question about the timeline of this story—it's set in sixth year during HBP, which I suppose makes this slightly AU. However, I don't truly mean it to be. You know when authors end a chapter, and the next chapter starts, "A few weeks later, blah blah blah"? Well this is sort of supposed to be happening in that few weeks that you never got to see, if that makes any sense. If you're confused by what I mean, then just call it AU and we'll both be happy. :D

Thanks to—Tomo Potter, Rictumsempra, WinnieThaPoo92, Erytha, kazfeist, crazy-emerald-blue, Cessations, and Gwinna.

Another quick note about the length of this story—I lied. I said 25, but right now I'm working on the 29th, so I underestimated. It'll be somewhere within the realm of 30, plus an epilogue.

See you in chapter 16!


	16. Sixteen

When they had retried the potion on Wednesday in class, Hermione and Draco used her blood. As was intended, the potion turned a beautiful periwinkle, and Hermione wasted no time in rubbing in the fact that her blood had worked.

"Isn't that strange?" she stated, smirking, "That my low, common blood worked and your precious pure blood failed?" Taking a long pause, she peered into the cauldron and admired the bubbling blue-hued liquid. When she looked back up at him, Draco was glaring.

"Blaise explained it to me, Granger. The potion tests the purity of the _heart_, not the blood."

Hermione bit her lip; she knew it was wrong to ask the question that was rising in her throat, but she couldn't seem to stop it from popping out her mouth.

"What did you do, Malfoy, to make the potion turn gray?"

He narrowed his eyes at her. "Are you trying to get me to admit something, Granger? It won't work."

She focused her gaze on the desk, not wanting to betray herself with her eyes. "So you have something to admit?"

"Is that why you've been following me lately?"

"I haven't been following you."

Draco stood up, taking the vial off the desk and scooping out a sample of their potion for Professor Slughorn. Placing a cork in the top, he picked up his bag and glared at Hermione. Part of her scoffed at his cold look. Another part of her noticed that it lacked it's usual potency because of the bags beneath his eyes.

"I do not appreciate you attemping to pry into my life, Mudblood. I have nothing to hide from you, and nothing to explain _to_ you." He stopped, staring at her for a moment, "I'm repulsed by your little—crush on me, and—"

She bristled at his implication. "I do _not_ have a crush on you, you self-centered, arrogant git!"

"Then leave me alone." He simply stated, turning and walking toward the front of room to turn in their potion. The other Slytherins were waiting for him by Slughorn's desk, obviously annoyed that they'd been forced to wait around because of Hermione _Mudblood_ Granger.

Fuming, Hermione gathered her things together and met Harry and Ron outside the room.

"Why were you late, Hermione?" Ron asked, stuffing his hands in his pockets as the trio walked down the hall.

She sighed. "Fight with Malfoy. He thinks I have a crush on him."

Harry and Ron burst into uproarious laughter, and Hermione half-heartedly shushed them.

"How ridiculous!" Harry chuckled, "Why would he ever think that?"

Hermione twiddled her fingers together, debating whether or not she should let Harry and Ron in on her little project. Whatever Draco was planning was bad enough to decimate his purity, and she knew that meant that Voldemort was most likely connected. Harry and Ron would certainly be good to have around if the situation turned out to be larger and more dangerous than she expected.

But this was her scheme, her mission, and she didn't want anyone to mess it up. She was going to get to the bottom of Draco Malfoy's black heart, and she was going to do it alone.

A/N: Quick post while I have the time. Have to go to work soon.

Thanks to those who reviewed. I'm sorry I can't list your pennames, I'm in a bit of a rush. You know who you are. (:

One last note—I finished writing. It's 31 chapters and an epilogue. So there you go:D


	17. Seventeen

Throughout the next few weeks, Hermione was sneakier about the ways she tracked Malfoy. She would still sometimes trail him after classes, but only once or twice a week when she knew there would be a large volume of people in the corridors, and it was less likely she'd be noticed. More than anything, she kept tabs on him in the library, constantly pouring over the books that he checked out once he'd returned them.

After two weeks of searching, she was quite disappointed to find that she was no where nearer to knowing what Draco Malfoy was planning to do. This realization made her feel desperate; her time was not infinite, and though she was unsure of what the actual scheme was, Hermione had the distinct feeling she only had so much time before she'd be too late. She couldn't be sure what she'd be too late for, at least not until it happened, but her intuition told her it was something very important.

In her desperation, Hermione grew sloppy.

Sloppiness was something new to Hermione, and she wasn't even aware she was being sloppy until Draco Malfoy had her cornered again, barking at her for following him. He'd let her go unscathed, merely intimating that if he found her dogging him one more time, he'd go to Dumbledore and tell the Headmaster that Hermione was stalking him. It turned out that it was much easier to be careless in sleuthing than it was for homework or spells, and she didn't know how to be more careful.

It was silly, she knew, to keep pursuing Draco Malfoy like she was, but she couldn't help herself. He had put her down and made her miserable at every opportunity he had since finding out that her blood truly was different than his own. And knowing that he had done something to destroy his own precious purity, had made himself as low and common as some of the very people he despised, was fascinating to her. She _had_ to know what it was, could not rest until she knew.

She was in the library, studying _The Human Ingredient_ (it was been returned to the library for the first time in weeks, much to her delight), when Draco walked in and sat down next to her. Hermione could sense him facing her, staring at her, but she did not look up from her page. Instead, she pretended to nonchalantly read the text as if he wasn't there.

"Granger." He said, anger in his voice.

Hermione idly flipped a page.

"Mmhmm?"

Her flippancy was grating on his last nerve, she could tell, and Hermione relished that feeling. "I want to know why you're following me."

"I thought I had a big crush on you?" she asked cheekily, smiling lightly at her book as she heard him inhale and exhale like he was annoyed.

"That's the only thing I can think of, but it doesn't make sense. Tell me why." When she refused to answer, he picked up the book and threw it across the room. She looked up sharply, suddenly aware of how angry he was.

"I do not have to explain myself to you, Malfoy." She answered, praying she sounded more confident than she felt.

His nostrils flared. "So you admit you've been following me?"

Realizing her mistake, Hermione quickly tried to cover it. "No." He was unimpressed by her lies, and she could tell. Draco continued to sit and stare at her, glaring with all his might. "What are you doing, Malfoy?"

"I'm not leaving until you tell me why you won't leave me alone."

"Why are you impure?" She blurted out the question before she could stop herself. The moment the last word popped out of her mouth, she covered her lips with her hand.

His eyebrows lifted clear into his forehead. "Excuse me?"

The words were already out; she could not take them back. Realizing that it would be impossible to erase his memory, Hermione decided to go with her mistake. "The potion didn't work because you were impure. What did you do to become that way?"

Draco snorted sarcastically. "I think you of all people should know why, Granger."

"But I don't." she confessed, "At least, not really. I know you're an insufferable git, and that you're rude and obnoxious and conceited. But those things make you a pain, not an evil incarnate. You're a bully, Malfoy, but not so much so that you'd be totally impure."

There was a long silence. Finally, Draco managed to mutter something.

"You have no idea what I am, Granger."

Then he turned and left.

A/N: Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed! Tomo Potter, Jellyjade Bean, crazy-emerald-blue, Gwinna, stylenwild, Erytha, WinnieThaPoo92, and kazfeist—thank you so much for your comments and encouragement!

Next update should be Valentine's Day (February 14th), unless something prevents me from updating then. Such as the rather large paper I have due on Thursday that I haven't started yet…whoops! Shouldn't interfere, though. I'm a quick paper-writer.

Thanks for reading…and don't forget to review:D


	18. Eighteen

As she watched Draco's retreating back, Hermione exhaled, frustrated. He was nearly out the door when she realized that she was not done talking to him. Quickly throwing her things together and grabbing _The Human Ingredient_ off the floor as she ran toward the doorway, Hermione called after him.

"Malfoy! I'm not finished with you!"

Draco turned around quickly, glaring at her. He took a few steps forward. "Granger, quiet down! Someone will hear you."

She quirked an eyebrow. "Is that a problem?"

"I can't be seen with the likes of _you_, Mudblood."

It was tempting to walk away at that moment, leave the conversation where it was. She could always follow Draco later; she didn't _need_ to say anything to him at all. Hermione was a creature of curiosity, however, and Draco Malfoy was an enigma that fascinated her. She wanted to know, had to know what he had done to sully himself.

"You said that I had no idea what you are."

"Right." He affirmed, rolling his eyes, "We done?"

"You're right."

"About what?"

She let out a sigh. "About me not having any idea what you are."

Draco snorted, then began to back up as if he were about to make his way down the hallway. "Of course I'm right. How would a mudblood such as yourself be able to _fathom_ what it is to be a pureblood? It's beyond you—"

"Shutup." Hermione interrupted, "I didn't mean to feed your enormous ego." She paused for a moment, to collect her thoughts. "I meant—you've done something. I don't know what. Something I can only assume is awful because it's destroyed something inside you. And I've always thought that you were a bully, a mean, rude, selfish little prat of a boy, but not evil. Annoying as can be…but not completely and irredeemably wicked."

His face retained the same cool expression throughout Hermione's speech; the only change in his entire demeanor was a small flicker of fear in his eyes. Hermione had caught that momentary flash of alarm, but it was gone so quickly she couldn't be sure she'd just imagined it.

"So you think I am now?" he asked, his voice steady and filled with hatred.

"Depends on what you did." Hermione answered logically, "You sullied yourself. You were right all along about there being a difference in our levels of purity, but you did something so extremely terrible that you ruined the one thing that separated us."

Draco scoffed. "Oh, please. If you put my blood on parchment, it will still turn blue."

"Yes, but if you place it in the Sanguis potion, it won't."

His face immediately turned sour. "What do you want, Granger?"

Hermione noticed, with great pleasure, that he'd referred to her with her last name, as opposed to "mudblood". She was winning. "I want to know what you did. I want to know what was so worth muddying yourself for."

"You can't honestly expect me to just tell you." Draco stated, looking at her as if she had gone completely daft. She shrugged in response to him.

"I don't know," she said, "it would save us both some time. Really, do you think I won't figure it out? When have I ever not been able to discover the answer to something?"

Draco sucked in a deep breath, pondering what she was implying for a moment. He wondered, was it possible that his every secret would be exposed? Was she truly a threat to his project? He considered Hermione, standing before him with a defiant look on her face and decided that he was being ridiculous.

"Try all you like, Granger." He sneered, "You'll never find out."

A/N: Happy Valentine's Day to those who celebrate it. :D Also, if any of you are having the awful weather I'm having in my area, stay safe!

Thanks go to—Tomo Potter, Dajana, kazfeist, pretty little devil, and Gwinna.


	19. Nineteen

Hermione figured that since Draco had given her an open invitation, she would use it. She used it so often and with such intensity, in fact, that Draco soon regretted extending it. If he turned his back for a second, she was instantly lurking behind him. The moment he cast away a book he was finished with, she was sitting at the other end of his table in the library, leafing through the pages.

He could not escape Hermione Granger, and it was starting to worry him.

Though he'd always been quite confident that she would never discover the thing that, he assumed, had destroyed his purity, he was now beginning to fret. Hermione was known for her brain and quick wits, and it was possible, if only ever so slightly, she could discover him and ruin all of his careful months of planning. Draco shivered at the thought; his life, the life of his family, depended on him completing this mission successfully.

So he started doing things to intentionally throw her off his track. He visited rooms that meant nothing, took long, pointless detours in his routes to his classes, and even checked out library books that had nothing to do with his task. Hermione appeared to be taking the bait, pouring over those books as she did all the others.

After a few days of misleading his constant shadow, Draco was beginning to feel more confident in his plan. As he made his way toward the library after Transfiguration, he threw a half-look over his shoulder. Hermione was behind him, smiling.

Draco entered the library, taking his time to comb through the shelves, hoping that he looked convincing in his faux-search for the "perfect" book. When he came across a title that sounded plausible enough, Draco snatched it up, making an "a-ha!" look on his face and heading toward an abandoned table. Again, Hermione followed him, seating herself at the opposite end of the table.

It unnerved Draco that Hermione seemed wholly unconcerned with trying to discover the title he'd picked out. Typically, she attempted to find out the name and author of the tome, scratching both pieces of information neatly onto a sheet of parchment she kept in her bag. That piece of parchment contained the name of every book he'd so much as looked as in the past few days. Instead of going about this usual routine, Hermione merely placed her bag on floor, then sat, cradling her chin as she watched him with a bemused look on her face.

"I'm not an idiot, Malfoy."

He coughed, ignoring her.

"I know that out of the past ten books you've checked out, four have been completely useless." She smirked when he swallowed heavily, "Well, five now. That one you're looking at is a joke."

Draco blanched; she had not even seen the title! He closed the book in front of him, knowing there was no use in keeping up pretenses. "How did you know?"

She smiled. "You've got several tells."

"Tells?"

"Little signals that let me know when you're looking for an actual book and when you're looking for a fake one." Hermione leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms across her chest proudly.

"What are they?" Draco asked, angered at the note of strained desperation that entered his voice. "Tell me."

Hermione laughed. "No way! How else am I supposed to keep tabs on you?"

Suddenly, Draco felt like he could not breathe. He had definitely underestimated this girl; she was getting far too good at reading him, at discovering all of his secrets. And if she got close enough to knowing what was going on, it would mean not only his life, but also his family's.

And maybe even hers.

Draco tried to force air into his lungs but found that it was a much harder task than he had reckoned. Gasping for oxygen, he stood up violently, leaping out of his chair and toward the door of the library, leaving Hermione in his wake.

After that reaction, she wasn't sure if she should feel triumphant or worried.

A/N: I think I'll be updating every two days again, unless I have another crazy homework week. Right now I'm alright, though…I only went to college once this week because of all the snow and ice we got hit with. So expect the next update on Sunday. :D

THANK YOU TO—Rictumsempra, moon doggie malfoy, Tomo Potter, pallas, kazfeist, crazy-emerald-blue, firebirdflame, Gwinna, and Dajana.

Please review!


	20. Twenty

Despite popular belief, Harry Potter and Ron Weasely did notice things outside of quidditch, and it had not escaped them that their best friend, Hermione Granger, had suddenly deserted them.

It also did not escape them that she had deserted them for Draco Malfoy.

The pair was undoubtedly confused by this sudden turn of events; it did not appear that Hermione had abandoned them because she was dating Draco, or even interested in being his friend. She still appeared to hate the Slytherin boy as much as she ever did, and Draco seemed to return the sentiment. Yet they knew he was the one she was constantly around. Many times they'd gone searching for her, only to find her following behind him in a corridor or sitting at the same table as the Prince of Slytherin, himself.

Though neither Harry nor Ron had ever had a head for investigation like Hermione, they mutually decided that this matter needed to be looked into, and they would have to be the wizards that did it. That was why when Hermione had run off immediately after dinner, claiming that she needed to look something up for Potions in the library, both boys waited three minutes before heading after her.

It hadn't taken long to discover Hermione's position, as she and Draco were always seated at the same table. Ducking behind a bookshelf, each boy pulled out a book so that they could spy on their friend.

Faintly, they could hear Hermione tell Draco she was not an idiot, and both Harry and Ron pressed their ears to the open holes in the bookshelf, hoping to hear a little better.

"What I wouldn't give for an Extendable Ear!" Ron whispered to Harry, craning his neck.

Harry nodded; he had been thinking the same thing. Soon, however, the conversation was a little easier to hear, as both Hermione and Draco abandoned the whispers mandated in the library and began to speak in normal tones. The exchange between them ended abruptly, however, with Draco standing and gathering his things as if to leave.

Realizing that Draco was going to have to pass by the exact bookshelf they'd used for cover, Harry and Ron scrambled for ways to disguise themselves. Harry turned toward the wall, looking up as if fascinated by the clock that hung on it. Ron opened a book and held it up so that it completed covered his face.

Neither of them was quite sure how long it would take Draco to pass by them; he had seemed to be in a hurry to get out of the library, yet he could have simply been looking for an escape. They held their positions in their "hiding spots" for a few moments, then simultaneously Harry turned around and Ron let his book drop.

When they saw that Hermione was at the end of the row, browsing through the different books, their eyes widened and both Harry and Ron immediately took to hiding again. Ron strained his ears to hear footsteps, then peeked over the top of his book to see if Hermione was still there. Positive she had gone, he dropped his disguise.

"Harry, we're alright. She's gone." He said, replacing the book he'd been using as a shield back on the shelf.

Harry breathed a sigh of relief, turning around. "What in the name of Merlin just happened with her? She said she was 'keeping tabs' on Malfoy, but that can't be true. Can it?"

As both boys made their way toward the door, Ron shrugged. "I don't know. She was the one who said it, so I reckon it has to be." He ran a hand through his flaming red hair uneasily, "She has been following him, we know that."

"Yeah." Harry answered, equally put off, "You don't think…"

"What?"

"That she has, you know, a…crush on him?"

Ron colored a little in his face, signaling that that thought made him angry. Instead of yelling, however, Ron took a deep breath and attempted to calm himself. "I hope not." He paused, "I don't think so."

Intrigued, Harry asked, "Why not?"

"She said something about knowing the past ten books he'd checked out." Ron reasoned, "I know Hermione loves her books and all, but that's not exactly what someone who fancies someone else does."

"You're right." Harry fought the urge to give a sigh of relief. "So, what do we do now? Do you want to confront her about this?"

Taking a moment to weigh the options in his head, Ron nodded. "I think so."

"Yeah, me too."

By this time, the pair had reached the portrait hole. They quickly gave the password, and climbed inside the Gryffindor common room.

Where a very angry Hermione was waiting for them.

A/N: Sheesh, I can't believe there are only a little over ten chapters left, already! Thank you to all the reviewers—chichirixxx, Harry's Lil Bitch, Gwinna, Bethy Ann, Feltonluver4eva, Erytha, Dajana, crazy-emerald-blue, and kazfeist. One millon thank yous to each of you:D

As always, the next chapter will be out in two days, which I believe makes the date the 20th. So keep an eye out!

Thank you for reading, and please review:D


	21. Twenty one

"You two were _spying_ on me?"

Hermione was fuming mad, her cheeks tinged red with anger. Ron gulped and cast a worried glance at Harry, who continued to stare at their female best friend, wide-eyed. Each boy started speaking simultaneously, grimacing when Harry's defense of "we were not!" was automatically canceled out by Ron's stunned, "how did you know?".

Their contradicting stories were more than enough proof for Hermione, who glared angrily at her best friends. "How _dare_ you follow me around as if I were a child! I can take care of myself without you two trailing after my every move. I can't believe you would stoop so low as to track me!"

Harry was struck with a horrible sense of guilt and snuck a peek over at Ron to see if he felt the same. Too late, he noticed Ron's face gaining color, and Ron's eyes narrow. Before Harry could stop him, the red head was yelling right back at Hermione.

"Well, _excuse_ us! We were only following your shining example!"

"What does that mean, _Ronald_?"

"You were the one that was bloody obsessed with following Malfoy!"

As soon as the words left his mouth, Ron wished he reach out and grab them and shove them back down his throat. The effect on Hermione was clear; she literally seemed to deflate in front of her two friends, all of the anger leaving her body in one quick moment. She turned her back to them, walked a few steps to the nearest chair and sank down into it, her head in her hands. Ron bit his lip and shot Harry a regretful look, and Harry sighed, knowing that he was expected to patch up yet another fight.

Taking a cautious step toward Hermione, Harry tried to speak. "Listen, Her—"

"Don't, Harry." She said, more sadly than angrily, "I'm not upset." She lifted her head so as to prove her face was clear from any trace of tears, "I'm just not used to Ron being so, so—"

"Awful?" Ron added, miserably.

Hermione shook her head. "No. Being so _right_."

Both Ron and Harry cast her a confused glance, so she explained. "You're right—I have been following Malfoy. Ever since that day in Potions when ours turned gray instead of blue, I've wanted to know what he did to ruin his purity." A blush crept to her cheeks, and Hermione turned her head as if to hide it, "But I wasn't doing it for the right reasons. I didn't care about him or what he'd done. I just wanted to know because—well, I suppose I wanted to rub it in his face that he was no better than me." She paused, looking both of her best friends directly in their faces. "Does that make me horrible?"

Harry smiled a comforting smile, seating himself on the armrest of her chair. "Not at all."

Ron perked up as well, and situated himself on the opposite arm. "It's only natural, Hermione." He said, "After all, Malfoy's been a right wanker to you for so long."

Laughing lightly, Hermione reached out and touched Ron's hand. She looked better than she had in days; calmer, focused. She smiled up at Ron, then at Harry, before grabbing them both by the necks and giving them a warm hug. "Thank you both." She said, barely above a whisper, "You really helped me put things in perspective. I don't need to prove I'm better than anyone."

A/N: THE END!

…just kidding.

Sorry, I have this horrible condition where I think I'm funny. Also, I'm really sleepy. That's what I get for staying up to watch my favorite TV show the night before I have my 8 AM class…gaah.

You know what helps sleep deprivation? REVIEWS! So you should leave me lots of them.

And thank you to those who reviewed the last chapter—kazfeist, Toxxic-hugs, Dajana, Tomo Potter, hpobsessor, FaithfulPureLight, PALLAS, crazy-emerald-blue, Gwinna, Erytha.


	22. Twenty two

Draco Malfoy had never been so on edge in his life.

Out of nowhere, Hermione Granger, Queen of the Mudbloods, had started following him. Dogging his every step, watching his every move each day with the same focused, determined expression. She had been unwavering; not once did she shirk her duties in sleuthing around in his life.

Which was why, when she stopped completely out of the blue, he had assumed it was just another tactic of hers.

He couldn't find her anywhere. In class, she sat as far away from him as possible and never once chanced a glance in his direction. He couldn't remember the last time they'd been in the same hallway at the same time, or when he'd seen her at meals. She hadn't even appeared at the Library. He had thought she lived there!

If it was a trick she was playing on him, Draco decided that it was an especially brilliant one, as he had never been more anxious. His usual cool composure had begun to crack, and even his fellow Slytherins were beginning to notice.

Pansy had cornered him in the hallway one day, crossing her arms and tapping her foot impatiently.

"Well?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

Draco stared at her blankly. She hadn't really given him much to go on. He cleared his throat. "Well."

Pansy rolled her eyes. "Draco, what the hell is going on with you? Yesterday, that girl in sixth year who you've been flirting with said 'hi' to you and you nearly jumped out of your skin. Then you blew her off!"

It made Draco uncomfortable that Pansy was so involved in his love life. After having broken up with her earlier in the year, she had made it her personal mission to make sure that whoever Draco ended up with was a suitable woman. He tended to ignore her comments and suggestions because he thought Pansy was silly, but that didn't deter her at all.

In response to Pansy's statement, Draco merely shrugged. He weighed his options carefully. While Pansy was not the brightest of witches, she was still shrewd and she'd be able to discern if he was too obvious with his lies. Deciding that feigning ignorance would be the best path, he gave her a withering look

"I've no idea what you're talking about."

For a moment, Draco feared that Pansy would press him further on the subject. She gave him a long look, as if she was trying to peer inside his brain. That moment passed however, and as shook she her bangs away from her face, she gave him a small smirk.

"Whatever you say, Draco."

Even after she had left, Pansy's question lingered in the air. What the hell _was_ wrong with him, he wondered. Hermione stopped stalking him as he'd so fervently wished, and his life fell apart. It bothered him greatly; true, it was possible that this was a ploy. That had, in fact, been his first suspicion. Yet Hermione was a Gryffindor, someone honest and true, and he could not see her attempting to such a trick.

Which lead to an even more upsetting question: why did he care? Since the moment she'd made him aware that she wished to know his secret, Draco had wanted nothing more than for Hermione Granger to go away and mind her own business. Now that she had, he was very nearly sorry she had gone. His feelings for her hadn't changed. She was still an unworthy mudblood.

Yet she was also the only person who had ever come close to knowing all of him.

It wasn't _her_ he missed, Draco decided. It was the idea of having someone from whom he had no secrets. His desire for companionship. As this dawned on him, Draco scoffed at himself. He took a moment to remind himself that a confidant was a liability, and to thank his lucky stars that Hermione had chosen to call of the chase when she did.

A/N: Thank you to those who reviewed—Tomo Potter, darkygirl, firebirdflame, Gwinna, hpobsessor, Toxxic-hugs, Dajana, Erytha, FaithfulPureLight, crazyemeraldblue. Also, I want to thank you guys for having me on so many favorites lists/alerts. That sounds silly, but it makes my day when I notice another person has added it to one of those lists. Haha.

One more note—I realize that this is a romance story and so far there hasn't been any romance. I also realize that there are only 9 chapters (and an epilogue) left. I want desperately to tell all of you the reasoning behind this, but I don't want to compromise the ending. Seriously, though. It's killing me not to leave a hint. Ha.

Please review:D:D


	23. Twenty three

The days following her conversation with Ron and Harry, Hermione's life reverted back into its normal agenda of studying and spending time with her close friends. Her studies excelled as they never had before; constantly trailing Draco had not damaged her cumulative average by any means, but now it was higher than at any other point during her academic career. Harry and Ron remarked that she had never seemed as focused or contented as she did during those days. Upon hearing that, Hermione flashed them a big smile and agreed that she did feel better about her studies and her friendships.

Inwardly, however, Hermione was still quite distracted. It was something she tried desperately to suppress. She threw herself into her reading and homework, and when she did have a spare moment she sought out the company of one of her friends. Yet, every once and while, during an especially boring class, her thoughts and gaze would wander to Draco.

It didn't happen very often, but what was so disconcerting was the fact that every time her glance shifted his direction, he was staring directly back at her.

Hermione felt as though the tables had turned. Suddenly, every time she was in the library, Draco would walk in. Or when she walked out of class, he was a few paces behind. It occurred to her that he was probably exacting some sort of revenge on her by mimicking her former actions. Instead of taking it lightly, as Draco had, Hermione decided to implement a plan.

She was the first one out the door of every class, and she would practically sprint down the hall and take as many turns as she could, just to make sure that no one could follow her. She also switched her library times, making sure to go when she was sure Draco had a class, or would be at meals.

This plan worked wonders for the first few days. Hermione saw neither hide nor hair of Draco Malfoy. After a short while, however, it appeared that Draco had caught onto her plan. If she pushed her way to the door to get out first for classes, he was right behind her, making his way through the crowd of students as well. If she went to the library during mealtime, he skipped, also. It was quite distressing for Hermione, who felt as though her life had suddenly been invaded. The thought occurred to her that she had done the same thing to him not too long ago, but she pushed it away from her mind. After all, once she had been confronted she'd been forthright with her intentions and he had told her that she could. What Draco was doing was different.

It scared her a bit.

After a week of escaping him, Hermione hoped that Draco had given up and was resigned to let the situation between them go. Her hopes were crushed, however, while she was at the library one day.

She had just picked out a book on Ancient Runes from the shelf and headed toward a table where she could read comfortably. Sitting cross-legged on the chair and flipping through the first few chapters, Hermione hummed to herself. She stopped abruptly as she found the page she'd been looking for, and then happily began to read the text.

When someone sat down next to her, she was not surprised. People often sat close to her, hoping to catch a glimpse at her notes or to ask her if she would recommend a book for them to look at for an upcoming test. The person remained silent, however, and Hermione could feel their eyes on her. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up, and before she even turned to look at him, Hermione knew who it was.

A/N: Very short chapter, I know. Chapters 23 and 24 were originally written together, but I thought it was far too long to go along with the short-chapter thing I was going for.

Thanks Thanks THANKS! to those that reviewed—Featherz, Whitelight72, firebirdflame, Gwinna, Tomo Potter, hpobsessor, Toxxic-hugs, crazy-emerald-blue, Dajana, darkygirl, FaithfulPureLight, SilverKestrel, Kazeyumi Kitsune-Hyuga

This is the most reviews I've ever gotten (15!!), so THANK YOU! Also, the number of faves (which is now tied for my most-favorited-story along with Kissing Booth) and story alerts shot up like rockets, and I'm very grateful for that, too. Thank you!

Please review!


	24. Twenty four

"Malfoy." She said politely, managing to keep her voice even and casual.

Draco did not reply, and Hermione felt herself tensing. She did not know what to expect from him; was he angry at her for avoiding him? Why would he be? It wasn't as if they were friends. She turned toward him, and found that his eyes were trained on her, unblinking. Unnerved, Hermione held his gaze.

Attempting to instigate some sort of conversation again, Hermione cleared her throat uneasily. "Can I help you?"

"You stopped." Was the only reply she received.

His retort perplexed her; hadn't he _wanted_ her to stop bugging him? Draco certainly couldn't have enjoyed being stalked. From the taste of it that she'd received from him, Hermione knew that she certainly didn't.

She blinked. "Yes. Yes, I did."

"Why?"

His gaze was so steady that Hermione felt the urge to shrink under it. She gulped, then replied, "I don't know."

For the first time since the conversation began, Draco's expression changed. He cocked an eyebrow, looking at her skeptically.

"Do you honestly expect me to believe that?" he asked, searching her face as if looking for the answer before she had even formed the words.

Hermione didn't respond for a moment, but instead stared into the face of the boy whom she had tormented only a few weeks ago, and who had returned the favor for her. He looked exhausted; his color was sallow, his eyes rimmed in the dark circles associated with fatigue. The familiar curiosity crept up her spine, but she squashed it as best she could. She nodded, and averted her gaze.

"I would certainly hope so." She replied.

Draco paused, shutting his eyes in concentration. He didn't open them while he spoke. "That's a load of bollocks, Hermione."

His use of her given name threw Hermione off her guard; she hadn't been expecting that. In fact, she didn't think she'd ever heard him use her first name when they were in conversation together. She was typically "the Mudblood", or on good days, "Granger." She wasn't sure how she felt about hearing her name come from his mouth and chewed her lip in anxiousness. Taking a deep breath, Hermione decided to ignore it.

"Why do you care, Malfoy?" she said, using his surname for good measure, "What does it matter, anyway? I just stopped."

"But I want to know _why_." Draco spat, opening his eyes and turning his head away from her in one swift, collective movement. He added, more softly, "I have to know."

Suddenly, a bubble of anger formed in Hermione's stomach at his audacity to demand that she explain herself to him. She had been a nuisance and pest to him, for sure, but she done nothing particularly damaging beyond that. Unless—the thought suddenly came to her—unless he suspected that she truly had discovered his secret.

Hermione had not, of course, found out what had tainted Draco Malfoy, but he didn't know that. Her anger dissipated; he was simply anxious that she knew what he had done and was worried she'd tell. Sighing, Hermione leaned in toward Draco and gave him a reassuring look.

"If you're worried that I discovered what you did—" she saw his profile drop and become nervous, "—I didn't. You have nothing to fear from me, alright?"

Draco let out a sigh of relief. His mission was still safe. He kept his face turned from her, and frowned slightly.

He answered, "Alright," before continuing, "but if you didn't find out anything, why did you stop?"

Giving an exasperated sigh, Hermione rolled her eyes. "Come _on_, Malfoy! It's not as if you wanted me to keep following you, or discover your secret!" she huffed, before catching a glimpse of his face. His eyes, though averted, were scared, and his lip was just barely trembling. The expression on his face was more than enough to show her the truth. She wanted to get up, to leave, but couldn't stop the next two words from coming out of her mouth.

"Is it?"

Draco turned to look at her, and the look in his eyes was so honest that she had to get away. She grabbed her bag and dashed out of the library.

A/N: First, apologies to Erytha and SherrBERT, for forgetting to thank them for their reviews for last chapter. I post right after I wake up, and so I'm usually still completely out of it. Sorry! Second, I also have to apologize for this being a day late. I tried again and again yesterday to upload this, but it wasn't working. Hopefully, it was worth waiting for.

THANKS GO TO (and let's hope I don't forget anyone this time!)—SaTaN's LiTtLe DeViL, pink.lion, Penelope, Tasuke-FMA, FaithfulPureLight, darkygirl, Toxxic-hugs, crazy-emerald-blue, firebirdflame, hpobsessor, BlueIrishEyes, Erytha, SilverKestrel, Kazeyumi Kitsune-Hyuga, Gwinna, and Dajana. I got sixteen reviews, which broke my previous record (that was just set last chapter)! Thank you all so much!

Please review!


	25. Twenty five

Draco had wanted her to know. Hermione knew that much. And as she ran away from the Library at top speed, she couldn't help but feel incredibly guilty. It had not been very Gryffindor-ly of her to turn and run from someone that was reaching out to her for…her thoughts came to an abrupt stop as she reached the Portrait Hole and climbed into the Gryffindor common room.

For what, exactly, had he been reaching out for?

Hermione knew it was most likely not for a confidant or a friend; even in that moment in the Library where he had looked at her, she knew that his prejudice ran deep and he was not likely to accept her friendship. But what, then?

Help, she decided. He wanted help.

The unfortunate part of the situation was, of course, that Hermione hadn't the faintest clue how to help Draco when she didn't know what he had done wrong. He had admitted to nothing in the Library, and had scarcely left a clue when she had been following him. Hermione considered leaving things as they were; surely, Draco would be fine on his own. But she remembered how he had looked at her, so desperate for her aid, and her own cowardice that had lead her to run away, and shook away that thought. This young man had reached out to her, and she would not fail him twice.

That night at dinner, Hermione was especially quiet. Ron and Harry chatted easily for awhile, but soon began to notice that Hermione was not truly participating in any of their conversations, merely adding "hmm" or "sure" every now and again.

Ron gave Harry a glance before saying, "You know who you should date, Hermione?"

Hermione played with potatoes on her plate, answering, "Hmmm."

Catching onto Ron's plan, Harry added, "Oh yes. Ron and I both think you'd be perfect for Professor Snape."

When Hermione merely said, "Sure," both boys grabbed her arms and pulled her out of the Great Hall. At this action, Hermione awoke from her trance and gave each of them a harsh glare. "What was that for?"

Harry out his hand so that all five of his fingers were pointing in the air, then said to Hermione, "How many fingers am I holding up?"

"Five." Hermione replied, staring at Harry as if he'd gone mad.

"Well," Ron commented, "at least she's not completely daft."

Offended, Hermione huffed at the comment. "Excuse me?"

"You haven't been speaking to us all night," Harry explaining apologetically, "Did we do something wrong?"

Hermione shifted about on her feet, feeling somewhat guilty. "I'm sorry, guys. I've just been—distracted."

"Is it Malfoy again?" Ron asked, dropping his voice down to a whisper. "Because really, Hermione, you have no reason to justify your being here in the wizarding world, you know that."

"I know," she replied, eyes on the stone floor, "it is to do with Malfoy, but it's not that."

Harry gulped. "You're not—dating him, are you?"

At that suggestion, Hermione's eyes turned into saucer. Ron turned red, and then abruptly green, clutching his stomach. "Oi, not right after dinner, Harry."

"I'm not dating him. Don't be ridiculous." Hermione answered, looking up at her two best friends. She considered lying to them, but then decided that it would be best if she was honest. They were both smart, and perhaps they could even help her if she needed new ideas, "He just—came out of nowhere and started to talk to me last night. I think…I think he wants my help."

Ron snorted and Harry gave her a skeptical look. "Your help with what?"

"His purity issue."

Instantly concerned, both boys pulled her closer so that she could drop her voice to a lower volume. The trio began to move down the hallway in a tight knit group, going in the direction of Gryffindor tower. On the way, Hermione elaborated.

"—and I asked him if that's what it was, if he wanted me to know." She said, pausing only to give the password to the Portrait of the Fat Lady, "And he didn't say anything, but the way he looked at me…I don't think I've ever seen anyone looked sadder in my life."

As they made themselves comfortable in a corner seat away from everyone else, Harry sighed. "And you believe that he wants you to save him from whatever he's been doing?" he watched as Hermione nodded her affirmation, "And you trust him? You don't think this is some sort of a scheme?"

"Yeah, Hermione." Ron added, "You're very close to Harry, this could be some ploy to capture you for You-Know-Who."

Hermione wrinkled her nose; she hadn't thought of that before. Still, she truly believed that Draco wanted her help. "I admit that's a possibility, but I truly don't think so. You didn't see how desperate he looked…" her voice drifted off, "he was so sincerely sad."

Ron lifted a eyebrow and shot a glance at Harry, who was giving Ron a similar look. Ron spoke up first, "Hermione? Do you, I don't know, _like_ Malfoy?"

Though her jaw dropped in astonishment as such a suggestion, Hermione could not help but realize that part of her no longer hated Draco Malfoy as she once had. That realization frightened her. Instead of voicing that though, however, she gave Ron a look that clearly said she was disgusted by such a suggestion. She prepared to excuse herself from the conversation when she caught a look at Harry's arm.

It was hardly warm out, as all of England was caught in the awful stage between winter and spring, but Harry had always been especially warm-blooded and often complained of being hot. Usually, while most students lazed about in their uniforms, he would change into something cooler so that he could be comfortable. He had been playing with the sleeve of his short-sleeved tee-shirt throughout their conversation and rubbing his right hand up and down his arm; they were nervous habits of his.

In doing so, however, Hermione had noticed something about Harry's arm she'd never seen before. A small indent that was just barely noticeable.

"Harry," she asked, cautiously, "what's that?"

Casting Hermione an odd glance, Harry looked down at his arm. Seeing the small mark, he shrugged. "Oh, that. When I was really young the Dursley's took me to get a vaccination. That nurse swore to me the mark would fade, but it never did."

"A vacci-whatsit?" asked Ron, perplexed.

"It's muggle medicine, Ron. Don't worry about it." Harry turned his attention back to Hermione as he covered the indent self consciously with his hand, "Why?"

"Of course!" Hermione cried, ignoring both Harry's question and his confusion at her odd answer. "Muggle medicine!"

Before either Harry or Ron could ask anything more, she'd run off, an idea forming in her head.

A/N: Longest chapter of the story! I wanted to break it in half to keep with my whole very-short-chapters thing, but I couldn't find a natural breaking point in it. The rest of the chapters are NOT this long. Just letting you guys know now.

Thank you—kazfeist (for ALL your reviews:D), Aya-Chan4861, Ehlonna, Toxxic-hugs, KenLuverDH, BlueIrishEyes, hpobsessor, FaithfulPureLight, Flick.TheLighter, crazy-emerald-blue, Gwinna, pink.lion, Erytha, and Dajana!

And just because I'm dying to discuss the seventh book…who do you think will die? I'm placing my bets on Ron. He's the little brother with something to prove! I think Harry will live, though. What do you think?

MAJOR REVISIONS 11/11/07


	26. Twenty six

As Hermione dug through her notes from Potions, she thanked Merlin that she insisted on being so orderly. Her notes were kept in chronological order, with the oldest things they'd learned being kept at the back of a folder she'd brought with her from home. Flipping through the papers, she came to one that she'd used a couple weeks prior, thankful that she'd kept it.

It was the list of ingredients and instructions for the Sanguis Potion.

When she'd initially done some research on the Sanguis Potion, she'd been unable to find anything about it other than what Slughorn had discussed in class: it was originally concocted as a healing potion that had most recently been used to discern one's enemies from one's friends. What no book had been able to tell her was what, precisely, the inventor had attempted to _heal_.

Upon seeing Harry's vaccination scar, Hermione had been struck with a brilliant thought. The idea should have been so obvious, and Hermione could not believe she had not thought of it earlier.

How many times, growing up, had Hermione fallen ill? More times that she could count. And each incident was coupled with a trip to the doctor's office where she'd be provided an antidote that would fight off the disease. If she had an ear infection, antibiotics would be prescribed. These drugs would enter her body, go to the source of the problem, and eventually cure her of it.

Could it be that simple for Draco?

She considered his situation carefully as she sifted through her notes. Neat, orderly script read, "An impure heart taints the blood that is pumped through it." There was a smiley face next to that sentence; Hermione remembered taking a certain satisfaction in that lesson.

Draco's heart was impure, and it affected his blood. So, in theory, would it be possible for him to ingest a cure, a purifier that would enter into his circulatory system, reach his heart, and thereby purify it, as well?

The answer seemed to be yes.

Hermione turned back to the Sanguis potion. It seemed to be the proper vehicle for her idea; a healing potion by intent, it had many curative properties. None of the ingredients would do a body any harm if eaten. If Draco drank a quantity of this potion, perhaps he would be cured of his affliction.

The obvious flaw with this plan soon made itself known to Hermione. The Sanguis Potion had proven Draco's blood impure; if she fed him the same potion, prepared with a drop of his blood in the same manner, he would simply be consuming more of his own infection. She needed something to re-purify his blood and ultimately, his heart, and finding that would require some research. However, Hermione Granger had never shied away from the prospect of challenging research.

This new thought was encouraging; perhaps, she thought to herself, it was possible that she could save someone most would consider to be beyond reach. A vision of Draco formed in her mind: light blonde hair, serious gray eyes, and an ever-present scowl. Hermione attempted to imagine him smiling, but found that it was impossible for her to even try.

Picking up some parchment and quill and shoving them in her bag, Hermione ran out the door of her dormitory and through the Common Room to the Portrait Hole. She climbed through, making her way toward the library so that she could look into pure potion ingredients.

As she entered and dropped her things into a seat, Hermione began to browse the Potions section for something that would help her. She picked _The Human Ingredient _off the shelf, hoping that it might contain something remotely useful, as well as a book called _Purely Potions_ by Benji Robinson.

The Human Ingredient was hardly helpful, she thought to herself as she cast the book to the side. Inwardly, Hermione prayed that Purely Potions would be the answer. Flipping open to the table of contents, she read over the chapter titles. 

"Purely Potions: An Introduction, Purely Tools, Purely Instructions—aha!" she cried triumphantly, her finger halting at a point in the page, "Purely Ingredients!" flipping to the page designated by the Table of Contents, Hermione hoped that it would be helpful for Draco.

_While for most potions,_ the text read, _any sort of brand name ingredients will do, there are some potions that require ingredients of a greater caliber. For potions pertaining to purity, for example, it is essential that only one of the four naturally occurring pure ingredients is utilized. These four ingredients do not need to be treated with spells or muggle chemicals before they are used; they can be picked from nature and put directly into a potion! The four ingredients are unicorn hair, the stems of roses (beware the thorns—they are there to protect the purity of the stem), green tea leaves, and the feather of a newborn Phoenix_.

Hermione frowned at the page. Fawkes was certainly not newborn, and she had no idea when he was going to next be reborn. There were no roses on the grounds, and she certainly did not relish the idea of venturing off into the Forbidden Forest to collect a unicorn hair. The tea she drank with meals would certainly not work, either. It came from tea bags, and those most certainly had been treated with either magic or chemicals.

Someone plopped their bookbag onto the desk next to her, and Hermione glanced up, annoyed at their intrusion. She was used to helping people in the library, but had hoped that she would be left alone to investigate this issue further. Her mood changed, however, when she saw Lavender Brown smiling down at her, holding out her Transfiguration homework and pointing to a particular question that she was having problems with.

Hermione flashed Lavender a very big smile. She needed the girl to cooperate, after all.

A/N: This is coming out a little earlier than usual—I work a very long shift tomorrow, so I probably wouldn't have had time to post it. Figured I'd be nice and let you guys have it earlier rather than later. :D

ALSO—if your penname is missing from the list of reviewers, I apologize. isn't sending me my reviews (again, ugh!) and is being a pain in general. So please know that your feedback is much appreciated, even if you aren't listed. Truly, it is. Thank you, reviewers—Toxxic-hugs, SilverKestrel, Erytha, kazfeist, BlueIrishEyes, Kazeyumi Kitsune-Hyuga, Dajana, FaithfulPureLight, Charolastras, Gwinna, and Flick.TheLighter.

Please review!

MAJOR REVISIONS 11/11/07


	27. Twenty seven

"Let me get this straight," Lavender said, "You'll help me with all of my Transfiguration homework for the rest of the week as long as I go down to visit Madame Trelawney and get some of those tea leaves I got for you when you had the stomach flu?"

Hermione bit back the reply that she had _not_ had the stomach flu, managing a head nod. "You got it, Lav." She answered, giving the girl a pleading look, "Please? It's really important."

Lavender gave Hermione a skeptical look. "Oh, really?"

She knew it was wrong to use Harry as an excuse to get something she wanted, especially when it was a lie, but Hermione could think of no other way to get Lavender to agree to help. "It's for Harry and, well, you know." She stressed the end, hoping that the other girl picked up on some sort of implication.

Her eyes widening, Lavender nodded. "Oh, yeah—of course I'll help. When do you need me to get them?"

"The sooner the better."

Lavender nodded, gathering her things inside her bag and making Hermione promise that she'd help Lavender as soon as she returned. While she waited, Hermione impatiently played with her quill, twiddling it between her fingers anxiously and hoping that Trelawney would give Lavender the same tea leaves as before.

When Lavender returned twenty minutes later, she had a collection of tea leaves at the bottom of a cup. She handed it to Hermione with a smile, before pulling out her notes and beginning to ask questions relentlessly. Hermione wanted desperately to escape the library and head down to the Potions storage closet, but she was a girl of her word and knew that she could not go back on her promise to Lavender.

After helping her roommate for an hour, Hermione faked a headache and managed to get out of the library. Instead of turning left to head toward Gryffindor Tower as she typically did, she hung a right and made her way down flights of steps and endless corridors to the Potion's hallway.

The door to the classroom was unlocked, and for the lock on the cupboard, a simple "Alohamora!" did the trick. Hermione sifted through the ingredients inside, pulling out small vials of everything she'd need and dumping them into the bag. She did her best to hold back her guilt over stealing the ingredients, reminding herself that Hogwarts' supplies were replenished frequently and no one would notice the small amount she was taking. Checking twice to make sure that she had absolutely everything she required, Hermione relocked the cupboard and stole out of the classroom, smiling to herself.

On her way back to her dorm, it occurred to Hermione that she had no way of obtaining a sample of Draco's blood. She wondered if he was still going to follow her; she certainly had not noticed him since their conversation the night before. As she got ready for bed, Hermione stored the ingredients at the very bottom of her trunk and covered them with her clothes, vowing that she'd figure out a way to meet him and get his blood the next day.

A/N: Short chapter, I know. But the last two have been a bit longer than usual, so it was about time I returned to format. Heh. The story is winding up! I'm so happy I've reached 230 reviews—thank you all so much, who helped it get there! I know alerts haven't been going out (it's such a pain, I hope fixes it soon!), so a big thanks to everyone who kept an eye on the story—Hprincess, SherrBERT, crazy-emerald-blue, Flick.TheLighter, Dajana, chichirixxx, CaScAdEd-TeArS, Ehlonna, BlueIrishEyes, and Kim from last chapter, who wasn't included because is being a jerk and not letting me know who reviewed. Heh. Thank you all!

Also, special thanks to kazfeist for inspiring the reentrance of the tea leaves—never part of my original plan, but I wanted to work them in once kazfeist said that they seemed to be important. You were right, they DID seem like they had some significance in that chapter. So I made them significant. :D:D

One last thing—if anyone is confused, please, PM me or email me or whatever. I will certainly respond and try to help. A few people seemed confused by Hermione's plan, and all, and I want everyone to understand. So if you're still a bit perplexed, talk to me and I'll do my best to explain. :D:D

MAJOR REVISIONS 11/11/07


	28. Twenty eight

Though she'd kept an eye out for him, Hermione did not notice Draco anywhere near her throughout the next day. Her flight from the library had apparently discouraged him greatly, and she knew that unless she made the initial attempt to contact him, they would not be speaking for quite awhile.

Right before dinner, Hermione stole away toward the Owlery so that she could borrow a school owl. She knew that Harry would have leant her Hedwig had she asked, but the Snowy Owl was quite distinctive and recognizable, and she needed something more inconspicuous for her task. Having penned a quick note before she arrived, Hermione tied it to one of the school owl's legs and headed to dinner.

Dinner with Harry and Ron was typical; they discussed Quidditch and their apprehension about an upcoming test in Charms, and Hermione berated them for not having started studying two weeks ago as she had. Her focus, however, was not completely fixed on her friends. As a few owls trickled into the Great Hall, each with a letter attached to its leg, her attention diverted to the Slytherin table, where Draco Malfoy was staring at the creature offering him a note, puzzled. She openly stared as his eyes roamed over her words quickly, and then as he raised his gaze to her own and gave a short, hardly noticeable head nod.

Harry and Ron had noticed that Hermione had lost interest in their conversation and though both of them knew who she was looking at, they said nothing. While they were each apprehensive about what Hermione was doing, both kept it to themselves, trusting her to make her own decisions.

As the trio got up from the table and headed toward the door, Ron grabbed Hermione's arm to get her attention. He leaned down to the level of her ear and whispered, "Are you meeting him tonight, then?"

Startled, Hermione stared at both boys, wondering when they had become so aware. A year earlier and they would never even have noticed that something had distracted her during dinner. She knew there was no way to deny that she had sent Draco a note asking him to meet her. Shrugging, she nodded her head.

"Yes," she agreed, "but you aren't mad, are you?"

By this time, Harry had leaned in as well, "Wait, what's going on?"

"Hermione is meeting Malfoy tonight."

Harry tried his best to keep his face neutral. "I see."

Offering her friends an apologetic smile, Hermione reiterated her question, "Neither of you are mad, right? You understand?"

Both boys nodded grudgingly. Harry spoke first.

"We're not mad just—concerned. I know you trust that he's being genuine, and I trust _you_. I…" he trailed off, his voice fading as he averted his gaze.

Ron picked up on Harry's train of that. "We both just have a problem with reconciling the Malfoy we know with the one that you know."

Hermione shook her head. "I hardly _know_ him."

Harry's piercing green eyes seemed to investigate her soul, and Hermione almost wanted to squirm under his gaze. He spoke slowly, "Then why help him?"

This question was one that Hermione had been wrestling with for awhile. Why go through the trouble? Why bother? It wasn't as if Draco Malfoy had ever been especially kind toward her. For the majority of the time she'd known him, he'd done nothing but insult and degrade her. What about a boy like that could be worth redeeming?

Hermione gulped. "I don't know."

Harry's glance became less analytical and more sympathetic, and he patted her shoulder comfortingly. "Just be careful, alright?" Ron nodded his affirmation.

Hoping her smile was more confident than she was, Hermione agreed, then turned away. She had to get to a room on the other side of the school; after all, she did have an appointment to keep.

A/N: Don't you hate it when alerts aren't working? I think they may be back, though—I went to my email last night to discover I had 30 messages waiting for me. Ha! I hope everyone else's alerts are back on track, as well.

Thanks go to—hpobsessor, FaithfulPureLight, kazfeist, BlueIrishEyes, Dajana, and crazy-emerald-blue. :D

Only a few chapters left, guys! I'm actually a bit sad about that. Haha.


	29. Twenty nine

Hermione arrived forty-five minutes before the time she'd told Draco on purpose, knowing that she'd need the extra time to prepare the Sanguis Potion. Before going to the Owlery, she'd made sure to pack everything she would need to make the potion, shrinking all of it and stashing it in her pockets.

Pulling the necessary tools and ingredients from her robes, Hermione said a quick "finite incantatum" to release everything from its shrunken state. She whispered a heating charm for the bottom of the cauldron and then began to prepare all of the ingredients, slicing the asphodel root and the dragonfly's wings. The Sanguis Potion was practically second nature to her now, having prepared it a few times in class, and she went through the motions of making it without really thinking.

When she reached the last step it had been nearly forty minutes, and she knew Draco would arrive at the abandoned classroom in only a few short moments. It was difficult to busy herself, but Hermione did the best she could, checking and rechecking that she had completed the procedure correctly.

The Potion had turned the proper green color and was simmering as Hermione sat at an old desk to wait for Draco to arrive. She kicked her legs impatiently as she waited, her eyes trained on the door across the room. It felt as though time had been feeling especially malevolent and had decided to slow, just for her.

The door flew open so suddenly that Hermione nearly jumped out of her skin, and seeing Draco Malfoy shadowed in the door frame did nothing to calm her nerves. He looked almost dangerous; an imposing figure, draped in dim light. As he moved toward her, however, Hermione could just barely see the ever-present shadows under his eyes, the tired way that he held his head. Resolve coursed through her; this boy needed her help.

Hermione smiled. "Malfoy."

Draco gave her a glare. "Why did you call me here, Mudblood?"

The tone—and the word—he used hurt her, but she tried to ignore it. She knew he was simply reacting to the poor way she'd treated him the last time they'd met. "For two reasons, actually," she replied, "One—to apologize. I acted very poorly the other day and—"

"—I couldn't have cared less." Draco interrupted, his tone cold. "In fact, I'd even forgotten until you mentioned it just now."

His flippancy grated on her nerves, especially when she had something so important to discuss with him. "Look, Malfoy, I know that's a lie, alright?"

"Oh, really?" he asked, studying her face. Hermione searched his own, and as hard as she tried, she could not find a flicker of fear or any emotion other than hate in his features.

"Really!" she affirmed, feeling slightly less sure of herself and trying to not let it show, "I know you wanted me to—to help you."

At this, Draco burst into a peal of laughter. "Help me? You? Help _me_?" he mocked her, "Oh, that's rich. A mudblood like you helping _me_, Draco Malfoy!"

Hermione felt horribly embarrassed, wondering if she had truly imagined the entire exchange between Draco and herself. But then, the image of his pleading look in the library returned to her, and she found her passion renewed. "Yes, that's right. You need help, Draco. And I don't care if I'm a mudblood, I'm the only one that's offering any so you may as well _take it_!"

For a moment, Draco was silent, but he quickly recovered. Seething, he walked right up to her so that they were face to face, glare to glare. He leaned down so that they were mere inches apart.

"Don't _ever_ use my given name when addressing me, Mudblood." He hissed, "You're too lowborn for it."

Hermione's eyes narrowed. "Only following your example from the other day in the library, Malfoy."

Because of their close proximity, Hermione was able to his face more clearly, and could tell that he recalled calling her by her first name in his moment of desperation perfectly. She could also tell that it bothered him greatly. Draco took a step back from her, but his eyes never left her own.

"I'm leaving. Don't contact me again." He turned away, walking stiffly toward the door, "There's no way you can help me."

Hermione felt panic rise in her as he made his way toward the door. Desperately, she cried out, "But what if I've already figured out how!"

A/N: Does Draco come back? I know and you don't, haha!

I can tell reviews are working again because I got 15 reviews this time—thanks, everyone! Kazeyumi Kistune-Hyuga, darkygirl, Featherz, SilverKestrel, mnmmaniac, magicalwriter, WinniethaPoo92, Toxxic-hugs, hpobsessor, BlueIrishEyes, Dajana, FaithfulPureLight, crazy-emerald-blue, tay4evaashes, and Erytha:D And thanks to everyone who has favorited/story alerted this story. I know I've thanked you before, but I recently broke 50 favorites lists and 80 alerts, which makes me feel pretty cool. Haha.

Please review!!

MINISCULE REVISIONS 11/11/07


	30. Thirty

Her cry caused him to stop where he was. Hermione saw his shoulders tense, but otherwise Draco did not move.

After what felt like ten minutes of silence, he finally spoke, "What do you mean?"

Hermione felt relief wash over her body, knowing that he was going to stay. She was going to help him. Part of her briefly wondered when and why this had become so important to her, but she pushed that thought away. She took a deep breath before explaining.

"I know how to make you pure again."

Draco's head turned sharply, and she could see his profile. His gray eyes were moving wildly as he tried to process this information. Hermione felt her breath catch in her throat when he finally looked up and over his shoulder at her. His face was like it had been at the library; there was no trace of the pinched and spoilt boy, but of a scared, hopeful, desperate young man.

His voice cracked. "How?"

As she motioned to the potion simmering on the desk, Draco moved forward to look into the cauldron. He gave her a peculiar look. "Isn't this—"

"The Sanguis Potion," she affirmed, "It can help you."

For his part, Draco was completely overwhelmed. He'd come here to completely push Hermione Granger away from him; she was too tempting when she followed him, or contacted him. He was Draco Malfoy, heir to a Dark Family, tainted wizard. And she was the only one who ever might have known him as something else. He couldn't risk being too near to her. And yet, here he was, on the verge of accepting her olive branch, her offer of help.

Continuing to examine the potion, Draco finally spoke again. "I don't understand how this can help me."

Hermione smiled; explaining things was one of her greatest strengths. "Do you remember when Professor Slughorn said that the Sanguis Potion was originally concocted as a healing potion?" she waited for Draco to acknowledge that yes, he remember, and continued once he'd nodded his head, "Only once it was used, it became more popular as a way to check one's level of purity. After awhile, the original intent of the Potion was almost completely lost. I almost never found it myself, until I saw Harry's vaccination scar."

Draco looked confused, "What's a vaccination?"

"It's a muggle medicine. That's what inspired me; I realized that I might be able to treat your impurity like a muggle disease. Give you something curative to fight off the affliction inside you." Hermione watching Draco turn over the ideas in his mind, trying to process them.

"Alright. I understand that," Draco said. "and I think I know where you're going with this. But what is something that could possibly cure an impurity like mine?"

Hermione held up the small vial of tea leaves that Lavender had procured for her. "Green tea leaves. It's a very purifying substance—we combine it with your blood—"

Draco looked excited, "—and then put that mixture in the potion—"

"—wait until it turns periwinkle, and then you drink it. The pure blood will flow through your veins, killing off the impurity and thereby curing you." Hermione smiled up at Draco, and he had to stop himself from smiling back, "Alright?"

Draco nodded, watching apprehensively as Hermione retrieved a needle from the desk next to the cauldron. Noting his scared look, Hermione could not help but laugh, "Is Malfoy scared of the big, bad needle?" she teased.

Knowing that his fears were ludicrous, Draco shook his head. Then, in a bold move, he reached out and plucked the needle from inbetween Hermione's fingers, pricking himself on the pad of his right pointer finger. He gave her a triumphant smirk, and then held his finger out, where the blood was collecting on its tip.

Hermione dumped the tea leaves into a bowl, holding it out so that the blood would drip directly onto the leaves. She crushed and stirred the green and red mess until it the right consistency, then dropped the mess into the potion.

The potion turned periwinkle blue.

A/N: Oh no! I just realized HOW close to the end I am. One more chapter, and then the epilogue/chapter—it's not a CHAPTER chapter or a real, true epilogue. We'll call it a chapilogue (haha, I like that word). I _love_ the ending, though, and can't imagine having it any other way. I'm really excited to post it, so I hope you're excited to read it!

I've reached 270 reviews—which made me do this incredibly strange happy dance, by the way. Never had a story this popular before. Thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter—Dajana, Toxxic-hugs, SilverKestrel, kazfeist, Mrs. St. John Allerdyce, BlueIrishEyes, Kazeyumi Kitsune-Hyuga, hpobsessor, pink.lion, crazy-emerald-blue, Erytha, SimplyChristine, Featherz, FaithfulPureLight, and hiccups.

Please review!

MAJOR REVISIONS 11/11/07


	31. Thirty one

Draco had never felt so happy before in his life.

When he saw the Sanguis potion become periwinkle, he suddenly saw a new future, very different from the one he'd always planned for himself, dancing in front of his eyes. A future in which he did not complete his task, a future that existed outside of Voldemort's inner circle, a future where one day he could have a family and be loved.

With that last thought, Draco chanced a glance at Hermione, who was staring excitedly at the potion. His heart sank when he wondered: would she have helped him if she had known what he was planning to do in just a few short weeks? Would she have considered him redeemable then, and still fought to return his own purity and innocence?

It killed him to admit that the answer to both of those questions was probably 'no'.

He took in her face, studying it carefully and wondering when he had started to feel differently about her.

Hermione did not notice Draco's suddenly less-than-celebratory mood, as she was too excited about her plan coming to fruition. She grinned happily as she took an empty vial and ran it through the potion, scooping up some of the blue liquid. As she extended the potion to Draco for him to drink, her smile dropped from her face. He no longer looked appreciative, but incredibly sad.

"Draco?" she asked, not caring if she offended him by using his first name. Her hand remained fixed in the air, holding out the vial.

Draco turned from her morosely, pushing the vial away with his hand as he did so. Hermione felt her heart drop into her stomach; what was he doing?

Hermione cleared her throat nervously. "Is something wrong?"

"Me. I'm wrong."

Although she gave him a few moments to explain, Draco remained silent, and Hermione decided he was waiting for her to speak to him. "But this will make you better. It will cure your impurity—"

Draco sounded defeated. "But it won't cure my life."

Suddenly, it occurred to Hermione that he no longer meant to take the potion. She felt a familiar panic return to her. "Everything will be better if you'll just take it potion, I know it will be." She assured, holding out the vial again. A desperate tone entered her voice. "Please, Draco."

It broke her heart to see him shake his head. "There's no point in curing someone who's doomed to a life of relapses, Hermione." He replied, "Curing my heart is only a temporary reprieve. What happens when I don't do what I was supposed to do? I'll be killed, or maybe tortured and made to do something even more heinous—" as if realizing only at that moment the words that were coming out of his mouth, Draco suddenly groaned, "—oh Merlin, I have to go."

Making his way toward the door quickly, Draco didn't even stop to look back until he felt a small, firm hand latch onto his wrist. He tried to wriggle free, but Hermione had a surprisingly tight grip and he relented, turning to see his captor. It hurt him, somewhere deep inside, to see that she looked nearly ready to cry.

"Please—Draco, please. We'll go to Dumbledore. He can protect you."

Hermione's pleading did not fall on deaf ears; every word she said touched Draco inside, evoking feelings he thought he had not possessed. He wanted so much to believe her beautiful words; that somehow Dumbledore could hide him away from his past. However, he knew that it was impossible to escape what he'd done.

He shook his head, unlatching himself from her grasp, "You can't save me from my past, Hermione."

She reached forward and grabbed his hands. "What about from the future?" she paused, then words bubbled out of her, "What is it that you're supposed to be doing, Draco? We can stop it—we can get you help." Her pleas sounded less coherent, even to herself, "Dumbledore, he'll help you. He knows you—"

Draco lifted a finger to Hermione's lips, silencing her. For one moment, he allowed himself to feel the full breadth of his emotions. He cupped her face lightly in his right hand, and relished the feeling of her lifting her hand to meet his. Draco shook his head sadly.

"No, Hermione. Dumbledore doesn't know me in the least." Slowly, Draco leaned down toward her ear, and whispered, "_You_ were the only one to ever truly know me."

Brushing her cheek with his own as he pulled away, Draco was surprised when Hermione took action and stood on her toes, pressing her lips to his for one brief moment.

It was a moment that was far too short for both of them, however, as Draco pulled away and ran out the door.

A/N: Thank you to everyone who has reviewed throughout the duration of this story—nearly 300 reviews is more than I could ever have asked for. And YES, that seriously is the last technical chapter. Chapilogue in two days and then…the end!

THANK YOU SO MUCH magicalwriter, Gwinna, BlueIrishEyes, kazfeist, hpobsessor, Dajana, Kazeyumi Kitsune-Hyuga, Erytha, crazy-emerald-blue, SilverKestrel, Dangerous Love, jessicariddle87, Aya-Chan4861, tay4evaashes, and FaithfulPureLight!


	32. Thirty two

When Harry had informed Hermione that Draco had let Death Eaters into Hogwarts through a Vanishing Cabinet, Hermione felt her entire body go numb. She prepared herself to fight back her tears but never had to; she felt no urge to cry.

"So that's what he did?" Hermione said, her tone even and dull.

Harry nodded. "That, and—" he paused, trying to control the rage inside him so that he could deliver the news to Hermione calmly, "—he…I don't think I can even say it."

Hermione closed her eyes, inhaling deeply and holding the breath for a long time. As she exhaled, she kept her eyes shut. "Please, Harry. Try."

"He had a mission other than letting the Death Eaters in." Harry managed, obviously pained by the memory. He followed Hermione's example and took a deep breath. "He was supposed to kill Dumbledore."

As the words came out of his mouth, Hermione's eye flew open. All of the tears she hadn't thought were inside of her suddenly came pouring out. "Tell me—oh Harry, did he do it?"

Her relief at Harry's negative head shake was short lived. "No. Snape did." Sensing her next question, Harry quickly added, "I don't know where Malfoy is now, Hermione. And I know you care about him, but—you understand if I don't."

Running her hand across her eyes, Hermione nodded reassuringly, wrapping Harry in a hug before turning the other direction and walking away to find Ron. At that point, she didn't know if she was crying for Dumbledore or the boy who'd caused his death.

THE END

A/N: And a high-five to my dad for fixing my laptop! He just happened to have the EXACT part that broke downstairs—crazy, huh? I really thought it would be a week or so until I was able to post this, since I figured we'd have to order the part. Lucky break for all of us, I suppose!

If the end doesn't exactly work with canon…oh well. I like it. I haven't re-read the book since it first came out…so, let's pretend:D If you'd like to correct me, go for it. I'll try to tweak it to fit your corrections!

THANK YOU TO EVERYONE WHO REVIEWED THROUGHOUT THE DURATION OF THIS STORY. I never expected it to be quite this popular, or even to be quite this long. Haha. And thanks to those who reviewed the last chapter—euroguyzrhot, Aya-Chan4861, Queen of Pi, Gwinna, Dangerous Love, magicalwriter, Mrs. St. John Allerdyce, hpobsessor, WinnieThaPoo92, FaithfulPureLight, BlueIrishEyes, SilverKestrel, Featherz, crazy-emerald-blue, Erytha, kazfeist, and tay4evaashes!

I have an idea for a sequel, but I'm not sold on it. So, I guess my question is…SEQUEL: Yes/No?


	33. Author's Note

Dear Readers,

First of all, it's 4 A.M., so any insanity that may be contained in this letter is not my fault.

It came to my attention (more than once) when I originally wrote this piece that my definition of a vaccination was wrong. Since finishing, I've wanted to do some rewrites to make this story a bit more medically correct.

Eight months later, and I've finally done it!

PURE BLOOD REVISIONS ARE HERE. The revisions are located in chapters 25-27, 29-30. I think (cut me some slack, I did stay up half the night doing this for you guys). I wrote "revisions" at the bottom if I revised that chapter. Please let me know if they make sense. I've stayed up pretty late working on them, and I'm afraid I may have entered that parallel universe where you're so tired that everything you say only makes sense to you…

The basic plot is the same. The cure is a bit different now, and I think it warrants a re-read since VERY SOON (as in, maybe during the next week) I will be posting…(drumroll)…the beginning of the sequel!

It hit me during the middle of class the other day. Three hour lectures tend to make my mind wander, and then bam! I knew exactly what I wanted to write. I have started to write it, but only by hand. It will take me a few days to straighten everything out, but hopefully you'll be seeing the first few chapters soon.

I hope you're as excited as I am. :D

Thank you for reading (and re-reading, I suppose).

--Mari

(11/11/07)

P.S. And for any fans of "The Game"…yes, the update has taken a ridiculously long time. It may have to wait awhile longer, depending on how much time I devote to this sequel. I'm hitting a creative spurt, however, and I think there will be an update by the end of November.

P.P.S. After you re-read this story, go read "The Game!"


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